


When it Rains, it Pours

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Caring, Case Fic, Gen, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-19 20:21:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1482655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A derelict mountain-top hotel, a blood-thirsty beast and a supernatural monsoon; what could possibly go wrong? Hurt!Sam hurt!Dean some comfort/awesome!Winchesters all around. Post 6x15 "The French Mistake"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P

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_**CHAPTER 1** _

He ran. He'd lost track of how long he'd been running. The rain pounded down on him, choking him with water with each gasping breath. The wind picked up with a ferocity that made him curse and stole the air from him. He bent over the stitch in his side as he forced himself to keep going. He couldn't stop. If he stopped it would have him. Later, he'd take the time to ask himself what he'd been thinking when he'd gone out there; to wonder why he hadn't done better research and seen the signs. They had all been there and he'd overlooked them. He hoped whoever came after him didn't make the same stupid mistake.

He stumbled over a root and sprawled face down in the mud. He fought to get back to his feet but exhaustion made him slow and he heard it behind him as he regained his feet. He turned slowly and thought this must be what the girls in horror movies felt; turning with the certain knowledge they were about to be lunch. Fierce eyes glowed at him out of the rain as it came for him with blinding speed. He backed a step involuntarily, knowing it would do him no good. The impact forced the air out of him and he found himself lying on the ground with the rain running into his face. He fought the weight holding him down to no effect. Hot, fetid breath blew across his face and momentarily blocked the rain.

He growled with the effort of trying to free himself and cursed himself to be without a weapon. It was unforgiveable. The levels to which he'd screwed up this job were going to haunt him for the rest of his short life. The creature glared down at him and he could only cry out in agony as it drove sharp teeth into his shoulder. He felt his blood begin to flow; pain shot into the wound and burned along his veins. He stared in confusion as it stood away from him, leaving the rain to beat down on him once more and loped away into the trees, heading back up the mountainside. His head fell sideways. He couldn't hold it up anymore and slipped into darkness as headlights grew closer through the trees.

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Sam looked over at his brother with a smirk as he caressed the Impala's steering wheel yet again with a small smile. "Do you two need a moment alone?"

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean sent him a dirty look and purposefully stilled his hands on the wheel. "Driving that…that wreck of my baby in bizarro world…it's like I cheated on her." He gave in and smiled down at the dash. "I'm sorry, Baby."

"Oh good grief." Sam laughed but couldn't help surreptitiously running a hand over the seat beside him. He'd never admit it aloud but he'd felt wrong as well and sitting in the Impala now felt indefinably right.

"So you sure about this job?" Dean clicked on the headlights as the sun vanished behind the mountain range ahead of them. It was their destination, or rather some abandoned resort hotel with a spotted history of late.

Sam nodded. "There's definitely something hinkey going on up there. Not sure what it is yet." He shrugged. "Whatever it is, it's taking bites out of people who later die in the hospital."

"Poison or venom?" Dean asked and Sam shrugged again.

"Have to check the autopsy reports when we get there." Sam watched the mountains looming ahead of them. "Been a few people gone missing as well and their last known location was at or near the old hotel. Apparently it's a hot spot for uh…" He glanced over at Dean with a smirk. "Ghost hunters."

"Dude." Dean groaned. "Tell me we aren't gonna have to dodge idiots with cameras again?"

Sam laughed. "Probably not. It's off season. Weather's starting to turn cold not to mention it's apparently been raining almost non-stop up there for weeks now." He gave Dean a meaningful look. "Since just before the first victim showed up."

"Ok wait, so not only are we gonna be running around the damn woods on a damn mountain but we're gonna be friggin wet too?" Dean scowled over at him. "You know, if you'd told me that before we left…"

"We'd still be at Bobby's." Sam chuckled. "I know. Why do you think I didn't tell you?" He slapped away Dean's hand as it went for the back of his head. "Bobby's still trying to narrow down the culprit. He said to call him when we get there."

Dean ground his teeth and focused on the road. "What are the odds this is some more monster momma weirdness?"

Sam thought for a moment and shrugged. "I don't know. You really think the Mother of all Monsters could be up there?" He looked up at the mountains with a new sense of foreboding. "Dean, we don't know enough to go up against her yet."

"Don't worry, Sammy." Dean glanced at his worried expression. "If she _was_ there, and we don't know that yet, she's probably long gone."

Sam nodded, not completely reassured. "And if she is there?"

Dean sighed. "We do a little recon, maybe get lucky and gank the thing chewing on people without getting busted by Mommy Dearest."

"Gee, you make it sound so simple." Sam smirked and shook his head. "You know Bobby will hurt us if we get in a dust up with her."

"Only if we live." Dean said with a dark laugh. He pressed on the accelerator, anxious to get there and find out just how complicated this case was going to be.

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Lyelo, Wyoming didn't look like much at night, even less through the rain falling steadily and obscuring the streetlights, making them glow with halos in the darkness. Dean slowed to somewhere near the speed limit. They didn't need local police on them because he couldn't watch the speedometer. He noted the boarded up business fronts as they passed and figured they were probably casualties of the hotel closing over two decades ago. Little towns like this didn't often recover from that sort of thing. He passed two closed motels, their parking lots long gone green with weeds and spotted a third that still had its lights on. He pulled up in front of the Mountain View Motel.

Dean smirked at his brother who had dozed off an hour ago with his face pressed to the window. He eased out of the car, leaving the engine running and jogged to the rental office. Sam hadn't moved an inch in the ten minutes it took him to book a room. He stood by his door for a moment, savoring a sleeping Sam; something he hadn't seen while he was soulless. Dean smiled and decided the chick flick was over. He leaned down and slapped his fist into the window over his brother's face. Sam jerked back with a shout Dean could hear through the closed window and laughed. He went around and slid into the driver's seat.

"You jerk!" Sam shouted, rubbing his face.

Dean chuckled and shook his head, showering rain water onto Sam who sputtered indignantly. "Don't be a bitch. I could have left you sleeping in the car." He pulled around the side of the motel and spotted their room near the end. He pulled up to the door, smile still in place. "Might wanna cover that hair so the rain doesn't melt it." He got out of the car and shut the door on Sam's curse with a laugh.

Sam took a breath, resigned to dealing with Dean in a good mood and got out of the car. "Crap, that's cold." He shivered as the high altitude rain ran down the neck of his jacket and went to the trunk to grab his bag. He caught it as Dean tossed it to him and followed him to the room.

Dean opened the door, turned on the light and groaned. "Dude. Who does a friggin seascape on a mountainside?"

Sam came in behind him and chuckled. The walls, all four of them, had seascape murals painted on them. They were tones of blue and white from floor to ceiling and not particularly artistic. The ceiling had white, fluffy clouds painted across it with the occasional sea gull while the carpet was a dark blue; an unfortunate shade of blue that showed off the many stains it had acquired over the years. The beds were covered in simple blue quilts.

Dean crossed the little sitting room with small blue couch, two blue chairs and a white table to drop his bag on one of the beds and then went into the bathroom. He chuckled. "Man, the floor in here has fish on it." He glanced up and rolled his eyes. "So does the damn shower curtain."

Sam laughed. "There are starfish stickers on the microwave." He looked around and sat on the edge of his bed to take his wet shoes off. "I think I'm off the ocean for a while."

"Leave those on." Dean said as he came out. "Good a time as any to hit up the Coroners. This late they won't ask too many questions."

Sam nodded and re-tied his shoe. He followed Dean out with a last longing look at the bed. He waited until they were in the car before taking out his phone. "I'll call Bobby. See if he's found anything." He watched the empty streets and listened to the phone ring. Bobby finally answered and sounded half asleep. "Hey, Bobby."

"Don't you idjits ever go to sleep?" Bobby's gruff voice came through the phone amidst the crackle of static. "So reception's gonna be a problem up there from the sound of it. Aint got much more to tell ya."

"Still no idea what it is we're hunting?" Sam asked and looked over to Dean.

"Well it's a creature." Bobby said and Sam rolled his eyes.

"Yeah we figured that much before we left."

"Don't get smart with me, kid." Bobby growled at him. "I can tell ya all the attacks have been centered up around that old hotel. You boys need to watch your backs up there. Pretty sure that old place is gonna have a spook or two all its own from what I've found."

"Fantastic." Sam groaned. Dean looked askance at him. "Bobby says the hotel is probably haunted."

"Great." Dean gave him a dirty look. "So we don't know what we're hunting and we're gonna have ghosts to deal with too. This job just gets better and better."

"Oh tell him to take his damn Midol and quit whinin'." Bobby said with a chuckle and made Sam laugh. "You get a look at the bodies yet?"

"We're on our way to do that now." Sam pointed as he spotted the sign for the Coroner's office. "We'll call you if the bodies tell us anything."

"I'll be waitin'." Bobby returned. "Don't get stupid."

Sam hung up after Bobby did and tucked the phone away. "He said you should take your Midol."

Dean gaped and looked out at the road with a glare as he turned in to the two story building. "I'm spikin' his whiskey when we get back." He said fiercely as his brother laughed. "You keep laughin' you're gonna have to start checking your shampoo again, Sammy."

Sam choked off the laugh as they parked in front of the building. "Wasn't funny at all. Nope."

"Diggin' a hole, Sammy." Dean warned him and pushed at the doors, then growled. "Locked."

"In the back." Sam said and headed around the building. "Gotta have someone around for late night deliveries." He pulled the collar of his jacket up against the rain and pushed wet hair out of his eyes. The heavy clouds overhead darkened the night to pitch outside the radius of the lights on the building. Sam stepped from one pool of light, heading toward the next and cursed as his foot went out from under him into what felt like a sinkhole. "Shit!"

"Sam?" Dean jogged to catch him up and laughed when he saw him. "Dude, only you."

"Shut up." Sam straightened from where he'd fallen forward on his hands and tugged his foot out of the water filled hole that had taken his foot halfway to his knee.

Dean took his arm and pulled him up. "You want some water wings?"

Sam glared daggers at him and stomped unevenly off toward the back of the building, shaking his right leg with every step and making Dean laugh more loudly. "Sometimes I wish I was an only child." Dean barked out a laugh and slapped him on the back as he went past.

They found a loading dock at the back of the building and an unlocked door they pushed through together, startling an overweight, balding man in glasses at a small desk. "Holy cow." The man said as the brothers came in dripping.

"You know the front door's locked?" Dean told him and dug in his wet jacket for his badge. "FBI. We're here to have a look at a couple stiffs."

Sam sneezed explosively. "Ones they found up at the hotel."

The man at the desk stared and then shook his head. "They make you Feebs come out in this? Boy, who'd you guys piss off?"

Dean smirked and put his badge away. "Director. Partner was making eyes at his wife." Sam sputtered but wisely kept his mouth shut.

The man laughed. "Well, you're welcome to go on in and have a look I guess. No one else in here this time of night." He smothered a laugh behind his hand as Sam squelched past. "You boys, uh, find what you need on your own?"

"We'll be fine." Sam glared. "This way?" He pointed toward a set of double doors and the man nodded, still chuckling. He went through the doors with Dean and waited for them to close before slapping Dean's shoulder. "The Director's wife? Really?"

Dean laughed and went down the short hall to the door marked 'Morgue'. "Had to tell him something. Guys like that like a little gossip."

"Could have told him you were the one checking her out." Sam grumbled.

Dean put a hand on his shoulder. "Sammy. A gentleman never kisses and tells."

Sam snorted and followed him in. "Well you ever see a gentleman, let me know."

Dean grinned and snatched a binder off the desk inside the door. He flipped through the list of corpses occupying the drawers across from them. "Yahtzee. Uh…drawer twelve, thirteen and uh…fifteen." He scanned the rest of the entries. "Looks like the other victims have already been released."

Sam pulled open the first drawer and slid the shelf out with its covered occupant. He turned the sheet down from the victims' head to reveal a young man in his twenties and took the chart from the end of the bed. "Says…bite mark on the right hip?"

Dean sighed. "The things I do for a job." He turned the sheet back around hip height and grimaced. "Ouch." The bite mark was a hand span wide comprised of dozens of narrow puncture marks.

"This one died in the hospital two days ago." Sam handed Dean the chart after looking at the wound and went to the next drawer. It was a woman in her thirties and Sam found the bite mark on her shoulder along with numerous bruises and cuts. "Huh." He bent until his nose was almost touching her shoulder. "This doesn't look infected or anything."

"Neither does this one." Dean put the young man back in his drawer and came to look at the woman. "Not an infection then. Poison?"

"I dunno." Sam wrinkled his nose. "I'd expect to smell something here or at least see some evidence of it around the wound. There's nothing. The bite's actually fairly clean."

Dean pulled out the last victim and groaned. "Well this one's got a smell." He looked at the chart and nodded. "He was in the woods for a few days before they found him. The wildlife had a go."

"Yeck." Sam pulled the sheet back and down his chest looking for a bite mark. "Is that it? I can't tell."

Dean leaned in and shrugged. The bite mark, if it was there, had been obscured by animal activity and torn skin. "I'm gonna go with yes." He looked back down at the chart. "All those puncture marks and none of these people bled out."

"So, creatures' saliva probably has a coagulant. Keep its victims alive longer." Sam nodded and pulled the sheet back up. "That narrows the field."

"You're dripping on the corpse." Dean told him and chuckled as Sam stepped back, irritated. He pushed the last victim back into the wall as the door opened.

"Hey, uh…Agents?" The clerk from the desk stuck his head in the room. "Thought maybe you'd wanna know."

"Know what?" Sam asked, trying to wring out a sleeve of his jacket.

"Oh well, I just heard on the radio they found one of your guys up the hill and took him to the hospital." He gestured absently in the direction of the mountain and the old hotel.

"One of our guys?" Dean asked and looked over at Sam who shrugged.

"A fed! Yeah, he was in here last night checkin' the bodies." The man looked surprised. "I thought you guys all talked to each other and stuff."

Sam's eyes narrowed and met his brother's. "Another fed?" He turned to the clerk. "And he's in the hospital?"

The man nodded. "Yep. Still alive I guess or they'd'a brought him here." He chuckled and then waved a hand. "Sorry. Sorry."

"Right." Dean dropped the charts onto the desk. "You give me directions to this hospital?"

The aging clerk told them how to get there and then took pity on them, walking them through the building to the front and let them out near the car. "Dean. It has be another Hunter." Sam said as they jogged through the rain to the car.

"Yeah but which one?" Dean scowled, not liking it one bit. "We aint exactly on speaking terms with every Hunter out there you know." He was sure there were a still a few with his and Sam's names on their to-do lists because of their involvement in the Apocalypse.

"Well we have to find out." Sam got in the car and rubbed rain out of his hair as Dean fired up the engine. "Whoever it is, Bobby didn't know they were up here. He would have told us."

Dean nodded. That was the part that was making him worry. Bobby knew where most Hunters were most of the time. "We'll find out one way or the other."

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Lyelo County Hospital looked like more of a glorified clinic. It only had three floors and half the building was dark. Dean parked near the Emergency entrance under the awning. The E.R. was surprisingly quiet though in a small town there probably wasn't a lot of excitement on a weeknight. Dean passed a door blocked off with a construction sign and stopped at the desk.

"Hi there." Dean smiled at the nurse behind the desk. She was a large woman with light brown hair going gray swept up in a bun on top of her head above blue eyes and horn rimmed glasses.

"Can I help you boys?" She smiled absently up at them.

"We're from the Cheyenne Daily." Dean smiled wider at her. "It's a small paper but we heard you guys had a Federal Agent here. Some kind of attack?"

"Oh the agent, yes." She said sadly. "I don't think they're letting visitors up."

Sam leaned on the counter, giving her his best puppy dog expression. "It's really wet out and we came all the way up here." He smiled at her as her face softened helplessly. "I don't suppose you could go find out for us. Even five minutes would be just awesome. Please?"

"Oh…oh well." She looked between them, flustered. "Well it can't hurt to ask. You boys have a seat and dry off a bit. I'll be right back."

Dean chuckled as she hurried away around the corner. "Sammy, we oughta register that face as a lethal weapon."

Sam smirked and slid around the desk, pulling the computer screen around. He quickly checked through the newest patients which turned out to be simple as there was only one in the last hour. "Got him. Third floor, room 312." He came out from behind the desk. "I don't recognize the name."

"Which doesn't mean anything if he's one of us." Dean nodded and pointed toward the closed door they'd passed. "How about we go up the way no one's looking?" They went quickly to the doors, prying them open behind the sign and vanished through them before the nurse returned. Only the emergency lights were on in the hall, the rooms were dark and construction equipment was scattered here and there.

"They must be renovating." Sam ducked under a hanging light fixture and pointed. "Elevator."

Dean slapped the button and sighed. "No power." He turned and pushed the door open across from it. "We're hoofin' it up."

"Awesome." Sam grumbled. He really wanted to get back to the motel and out of his water-logged shoes. Sleep was sounding better and better by the minute.

"We're gonna get a look at him before we go introducing ourselves." Dean said over his shoulder. "Try not to let him see us."

"That won't be a problem." Sam jogged up the second flight of stairs. "According to the computer, he hasn't woken up since they brought him in. He's in some sort of coma like the other two victims who died in the hospital. They never woke up."

"That makes it easier." Dean panted as they reached the third floor. "Ok. I need to cut back on the donuts."

Sam chuckled and followed him out into yet another darkened hall. Light came from the door at the end and they eased quietly down the hall, hearing the drone of voices from the other side. Dean cracked the door and peered out.

"It's clear. Come on." Dean opened the door and slipped into the bright hall with Sam beside him. He checked the numbers on the nearest doors and chose a direction. He walked surely as if they belonged there and knew where they were going. He turned a corner and pushed Sam back against the wall out of sight, sliding in beside him. "Cop outside the room we want."

"Crap." Sam leaned around him to look and saw a man in uniform talking to a Doctor. He couldn't hear what they were saying but the doctor was shaking his head which didn't bode well for the 'Agent'. "I think they're leaving." He leaned back and let Dean have a look.

"Yep. They're going." Dean waited until both turned a corner at the far end and stepped out. "Come on. We probably only have a couple of minutes."

They jogged down the hall to the door. Dean tapped the '312' on the wall beside it and pushed it open slowly in case there was a nurse or someone else in the room. There wasn't. It was empty except for the single bed, the beep of the monitors and the blanket covered form atop it.

Sam eased in behind him and went to the bed, looking down at the face with a sinking feeling. "Oh crap, Dean."

"What? Who is it?" Dean turned from looking out the door and came up beside him. "Son of a bitch."

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_To Be Continued…_

_Heh heh heh heh_


	2. Chapter 2

_**CHAPTER 2** _

"Rufus." Sam breathed and laid a hand on the older man's shoulder. His dark skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, mouth hanging open beneath an oxygen mask as though he were having difficulty breathing even with its aid and Sam could see several scrapes and cuts along his face, neck and arms that had been cleaned.

"Bobby's gonna blow a gasket." Dean commented and leaned in to tug aside the corner of the hospital issue gown at his other shoulder. Bandages wrapped around it and he gently peeled them back to reveal the same bite wound they had seen on the bodies in the morgue. "What the hell happened to you, old man?"

Sam twitched the sheet over him into place and took Dean's arm. "Come on. They'll be back." He tugged him to the door and looked out. "We need to call Bobby."

Dean gave Rufus' sleeping form a last glance and let the door close. They beat a hasty retreat back down the stairs and knocked out a window in a first floor room rather than pass the nurse at the desk again. "We gotta get him out of there." Dean said as he stepped into the rain again.

Sam shook his head. "Not until we know what's going on." He dashed to the Impala and climbed in with Dean. "Those machines might be the only thing keeping him alive."

"Dammit." Dean slapped a hand into the steering wheel and pulled away from the hospital. "Ok rule one. Don't get bitten." He glanced over to Sam. "I'm lookin' at you, jeopardy boy."

Sam rolled his eyes. "What the hell is this thing?" He dropped his head back on the seat as Dean drove and started sorting through every creature he could think of in his head. He was no wiser by the time they reached the motel and followed Dean into the room. Dean already has his phone out dialing Bobby.

"Bobby." Dean cut in to Bobby's usual greeting tirade. "Rufus is here and whatever this thing is, it took him down."

"Rufus? What in hell is that idjit doing there?" Bobby shouted. "And why didn't he call me?"

"Bobby." Dean cut in again and rolled his eyes to Sam when Bobby's griping continued. "Bobby!"

"What?" Bobby groused.

"He's in the hospital in a coma." Dean heard Bobby suck in a breath. "You done yellin' about him so we can figure out what did this?"

"Save his happy ass again." Bobby growled and dropped into the chair at his desk. "Stupid son of a bitch. Alright. Tell me whatcha got."

Sam listened to Dean fill Bobby in about the victims, the bites and their theories, such as they were. He got up and went to the door, seeing Dean's raised brows. "Food." Sam mouthed and went outside into the rain. He groaned and dashed out to the car again. He'd been more than ready to fall into bed and then his stomach reminded him they hadn't eaten anything since the last gas station and jerky was not going to hold them until morning.

Dean listened to the Impala's engine rumble away and put his attention back on the voice in his ear. "No, Bobby. No one's seen the thing except for the victims. I figure we'll head up to the old hotel tomorrow. Check it out in the daylight."

"Alright, look. I'm gonna dig around. See what I can turn up." Bobby scrubbed a hand over his face. "Dean, you boys watch your backs and…don't let that idjit Rufus die before I can kill his stupid ass."

Dean chuckled. "Do our best, Bobby." He hung up and sighed. "Well this is starting off well." He went to his bag and dug out the map he'd grabbed of the area at the last gas stop and spread it out on the table. There were only two roads up to the hotel; one the paved road off the highway leading out of town and the other a dirt road used by the Forest Rangers during wildfire season. He glanced up at the wide windows beside the door and smirked. No chance of a forest fire with the rain terminally coming down. He sat down and studied the area around the hotel. The building complex sat at the peak of one of the smaller mountains in the range surrounded by heavy forest. Sam said it had been shut down after being cut off by wildfires two years in a row; the guests had simply not come back the following year. In the years since, rumors of ghosts walking the halls drew a regular compliment of ghost hunters the Rangers fought a losing battle to keep out.

Dean glanced at his watch and out the windows. "How long's it take to find some take-out, Sammy?" He said softly and tried to ignore the little niggle of worry that bubbled up. He still couldn't forget the image of Sam seizing, sliding into stillness and waiting for a sign of life. He scrubbed a hand over his face. It made him nervous. He studied the map a while longer and looked at his watch again. "Come on, dammit." Dean rose and went to the door, flinging it open and looked out into the rainy night. "Where the hell are you?"

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Sam turned down yet another street in search of a restaurant still open. He was getting frustrated enough he'd take a grocery store and settle for microwaved soup. He pulled in to a gas station and parked under the awning before running inside. The attendant pointed him to a restaurant just outside of town. The rain seemed to know he was aggravated and began to pour harder. The wind picked up as well, rocking the Impala's body as he drove.

"Gimme a break." Sam groaned and slowed. A single dent on the car would earn him Dean's eternal ire he knew. He fought a sudden gust, turning the wheel against the wind. "Shit!" He felt the moment the water got between the tires and the road; felt the sudden give in the wheel and the sensation of floating as the Impala hydroplaned across the road, pushed by the wind. "No, no, no!" Sam yelled as the car slid over the water and slumped to a stop at an angle in the shallow ditch. "Dammit!"

Sam leaned forward and thumped his head into the steering wheel. "This…is not happening." He could already hear Dean's tirade. He unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out to check for damage. He shivered in the hard rain and ducked his head. At least the wind had died down somewhat. He used the car to balance and went around the front. He smiled to find no damage and backtracked to the rear of the car. "Oh thank god." He breathed as he saw the car was undamaged. The wind suddenly gusted and blew him over into the ditch. Sam sputtered as he landed in the shallow water at the bottom.

He slapped his hands into the water and gave an inarticulate cry into the rain. He used the bumper of the Impala to get to his feet and climbed the few steps out of the ditch. The wind died and the rain lessened as he reached the driver's door. "Oh NOW you let up!" He shouted at the clouds and got into the car. It took him several tries to work the Impala out of the ditch and back on the road. Sam knew he was going to have fun explaining why the driver's seat was sodden to his brother when he got back. He gave up on food, his appetite gone and turned carefully on the mountain road to head back into town. Sam wiped water out of his eyes and then slammed on the brakes. He stared into the trees at the side of the road with narrowed eyes.

"What the hell?" Sam inched the car forward, turning slightly so the headlights went into the trees. "Huh." He'd been sure he'd seen something flash between the boughs of the trees for just a second; two red eyes he'd thought. The lights showed nothing but wet trees moving in the wind. He frowned and sped up, resisting the urge to get out and look for himself. The unusual rainfall in the area, the sudden wind putting him off the road and then the eyes; he wasn't going to be so stupid as to put himself out as bait if for no other reason than Dean would kill him. He smirked and kept an eye on the rearview mirror for any sign.

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Dean paced to the open door again and kicked it shut. "Dammit, Sam." He went to the table and grabbed his cell phone. It had been way too long for a damn food run and his nerves couldn't take it anymore. He was in the middle of dialing Sam's number when he heard the Impala's distinctive engine in the parking lot. He was at the door in three strides, throwing it open and could only stare in shock as his bedraggled brother parked and got out to walk over to him.

"What the hell happened to you?" Dean moved so Sam could go past him into the room and then grabbed Sam's arm. "What'd you do to my car?" Dean pulled Sam with him back out into the rain and stalked over to the front of the Impala. "Why is there mud all over her? What'd you do?"

"Can we go inside please?" Sam tried to tug his arm free ineffectually and rolled his eyes when Dean's grip tightened. "It wasn't my fault…I don't think."

"You don't think?" Dean glared at him.

Sam sneezed explosively and clapped a hand over his nose. "Dammit!" He yanked his arm free. "Inside. I am done being wet now." He turned on his heel and Dean let him go into the room.

Dean walked a circle around the Impala, eying every inch of her critically. The mud made him growl but he was relieved to see there was no overt damage. He left her there and went inside the room to find Sam's sopping jacket in a puddle on the floor and the bathroom door closed. "Sammy!" He pounded on the door. "You need to get your ass out here and tell me what happened?" Dean waited. "And where's the food?"

The bathroom door opened and Sam came out shirtless and rubbing a towel over his hair. "Didn't make it too food." He went to his bed and dug through his duffel, pulling out a t-shirt and sweatpants. "Something blew me off the damn road outside of town."

"Wait. What?" Dean yanked the towel away from Sam as he sneezed again. "You wanna start from the beginning?"

"Can I just…get dry please?" Sam grabbed the clothes and headed for the bathroom again. "I can feel my head stuffing up as we speak."

Dean watched him close the door and swallowed the impatience. Sam was back and he was fine and his car was fine; he could wait five minutes. He pulled a beer out of the fridge and dropped onto the couch. Sam emerged a few minutes later looking less like a drowned rat and got himself a beer as well before sitting.

"Ok, so I think whatever we're hunting can control the elements…or at least the wind and the rain." Sam shrugged. "Also I may have caught a glimpse of it after I got the car out of the ditch."

"The ditch?" Dean lurched to his feet and went back to the door, throwing it open to look at his car again.

Sam cringed. "It wasn't a deep ditch ok? Didn't put a mark on her, I swear." He took a healthy gulp of his beer to fortify himself. "The rain kicked up and this insane wind blew me off the road." He sneezed again and cussed. "Then it picked up again and dumped in the damn ditch while I was checking the car."

Dean shut the room door and turned back to Sam, crossing his arms over his chest. "How about the part where you maybe saw it?" He worked on keeping the anger off his face that Sam had put himself in harm's way again, however unwittingly. "Was this while you were on your ass in the damn ditch? Tell me you at least had a weapon on you."

"Dude." Sam gestured into the bathroom and Dean stepped closer to look. Sam's pistol sat on a folded towel on the small counter. "It's as drenched as I am. Give me some credit. Of course I was armed." He drained his beer and set it aside. "I didn't see anything but a pair of eyes." He closed his own and tried to bring the moment back into focus. He shook his head. "No, just the eyes. They were red. Luminous. We should call Bobby."

Dean sighed. "I'll call him. You go take a shower before that cold sets in." He took his phone back out. "Not listening to you blow snot all night."

Sam smirked and stood going back to the bathroom. "Make sure to tell him about the weather control too."

Dean flipped him off and snapped his phone open. "This job gets better and better."

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"Bobby's still got no clue." Dean tossed his phone onto the table as Sam came out of the bathroom. "He called and checked on Rufus. No change but the Doctor told him the bite victims started weakening after a couple of days and were dead soon after."

"So we're on a clock." Sam nodded and rolled wearily onto his bed. "But we knew that. He have any idea what it is we're after?"

"Not yet. He said the weather crap helps." Dean shrugged. "Maybe we'll get lucky and it'll come out and say hi tomorrow."

Sam chuckled and pulled his blankets over him, burying his head underneath in a bid to escape the light. "Maybe it'll roll over and play dead for us too."

Dean smirked and grabbed his bag. He shut off the room light and went to the bathroom. Sam's gun still lay on the counter but his brother had taken it apart to dry it out. He shook his head and closed the door. Whatever was munching on people and had taken a bite out of Rufus, he hoped they'd have better luck.

Dean woke in the morning to the sound of a foghorn. He pushed up on his elbows and groaned realizing it wasn't a foghorn; it was his brother blowing his nose. "You blow any harder the windows are gonna break."

"Ith not funny." Sam said with a wad of Kleenex over his nose and came out of the bathroom. He sniffed hard and blew his nose again. "This sucks."

Dean smirked and rolled out of bed. "You leave me any hot water?"

Sam smiled and shrugged. "If you're lucky." He chuckled as Dean grumbled into the bathroom and dropped onto the couch with a sigh as the door shut. He'd woken early with a fever and a head so stuffed it felt as though it would explode at any minute. Rather than wallow in his misery, he'd already showered, gone out for cold medicine and coffee and done his best to dry the driver's seat. He was hoping Dean wouldn't notice the sort of 'wet sneaker on linoleum' sound it was making when he sat down. Sam rolled his eyes. "Like I'd be that lucky."

Dean came out of the shower to find a cup of coffee waiting for him, donuts whose warm aroma called sweetly to him and a little brother trying not to look as he miserable as he felt while putting his gun back together now it had dried and been cleaned.

"What part of my baby do I not wanna see?" Dean bit into a flaky donut and eyed Sam who tried an innocent face.

"Don't know what you mean?" Sam shrugged and nudged the tall coffee toward him. "Still hot."

"Uh huh." Dean scowled down at him but took the coffee.

Sam finished putting his gun back together and slid it behind his back. "So we should get up to the old hotel and have a look around." He waved an arm at the windows. "It's still raining."

"Maybe it's a weather demon." Dean shook his head. "That'd be a new one."

"I don't think demons care about the weather." Sam stood and grabbed the box of Kleenex on the table and his coffee. "Come on, before Noah's friggin Ark floats by."

Dean chuckled. He finished off the last of the donut and grabbed his coffee before following Sam outside. They dashed to the car and Dean slid in behind the wheel, pulled the door shut and froze. He shifted in the seat, listening to the irritating squeak; shifted again and then slid his eyes over to Sam who was studiously looking at the map and not at him.

"Sammy?" Dean said softly.

"Not my fault." Sam risked a glance, seeing the glower on Dean's face and smirked. "Weather demon's fault."

Dean growled and started the car. He knew the leather was dry but couldn't help feeling as though his butt was getting wet sitting there. He should have known since Sam had come back half drowned. "You're detailin' the leather later."

Sam snorted a laugh and set the map aside as they drove. The town looked dreary through the rain in daylight, as though all its vibrancy had been washed away in the weeks of constant rainfall. Even the few people out on the streets looked down-trodden under their umbrellas; faces downcast as the wind gusted to blow it in their faces. It took only minutes to cross out of Lyelow and into the forests beyond, heading steadily upward along the road.

"There's the restaurant I was trying to get to last night." Sam pointed to the little diner back among the trees. "Man I went right past it and never even saw it." He shook his head. "Those trees must hide the lights at night."

"That and the rain." Dean watched it pass and saw the line of cars outside. It was the only place they'd seen real signs of life since arriving. "Where'd you go off?"

Sam watched the trees passing and the curve of the road back and forth and frowned. "I'm not really sure. "Somewhere up ahead here." There were no signs of his accident that he could see. The rain had washed them away long before they got there. He pulled the map down to look at it again. "This is one lonely stretch of road. Rufus got lucky the forest ranger found him when he did."

Dean nodded and took a firmer grip on the wheel as the wind gusted, rocking the car lightly. He saw Sam's head come up at the motion and reasoned this must have been how it started last night. He slowed down in response, determined not to end up in the ditch like Sam had no matter what the weather threw at them.

"Watch the road if the rain picks up." Sam warned. "It got so heavy the wind made me hydroplane."

"Got it." Dean rolled his eyes. He knew how to drive his damn car. They drove in silence, wary of the wind and rain as they climbed up the side of the mountain. They caught occasional glimpses down the side of the mountain through breaks in the trees and Dean chuckled each time Sam unconsciously leaned away from the window at the drop. The road became less well tended; the blacktop cracked and crumbled and in some places washed away altogether leaving a stretch of bumpy earth behind. Through it all the rain never stopped. When they finally neared the summit of the mountain and the hotel, the windshield was painted with mud except for where the wipers swung.

"Whoa." Sam leaned forward to get a better look at the hulking building as they broke from the trees. "That…is big." The hotel stretched for what had to be at least two city blocks and six stories up. Most of the windows were gone; taken by the elements over the decades it had been derelict. Ivy climbed over most of it and hid the white stonework, turning the entire building green and brown. It looked alive. The once circular drive was long over grown with grass and shrubs and even a few straggling trees as Dean wove the Impala around them and to the front of the building. There once had been an awning to cover the wide front doors but it had fallen and lay in a heap of rubble and ivy.

Dean parked and climbed out of the car to look up at the building. The empty windows stared back down at him like dark holes surrounded by the ivy. "That is one creepy hotel."

"Holy cow." Sam said, voice awed.

Dean turned and took a moment himself to admire the view. The trees dropped off suddenly and the whole of the valley was laid out below them. A heavy mist covered the floor of the valley between the mountains and made it look more like an ocean of white foam surrounded by green. "That's…that's…wow."

Sam smirked and turned back to him. "Eloquent, Dean."

"Bite me." Dean tore his eyes away from the view and went around to the trunk, wiping rain from his face. "I can see why this place would have drawn people."

"I can't believe someone hasn't snatched it up and tried to re-open it with a view like that." Sam looked back out at the vista again. He smiled at the beauty of it and looked back around at the hotel again. "Uh, Dean?" Sam wiped the rain out of his eyes as it tried to blind him and looked up. A band of low clouds was slowly rolling down the mountain above them toward the hotel. "Visibility's about to turn to shit."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me." Dean eyed the clouds and flung a finger up at them in temper. "You know, we should have a point where crap keeps going wrong and we just say 'that's it, we're done' and friggin leave it."

Sam chuckled and took the bag Dean handed him and the sawed off shotgun. "Like you'd ever walk away from a job." He waited for Dean to take his own and closed the trunk for him. "Not when people are dying."

"Well, doesn't mean I wish we could." Dean looked back up the mountain. "Sometimes. Come on."

They went to the entrance and climbed carefully over the rubble of the awning. Sam shook the rain from his hair as they stepped into the dim light of the entrance and out of the rain. They both took out their flashlights and turned them on. The ivy had made it inside the building and climbed the walls and crept across the floor toward the stairs on either side of the entrance hall. One set of stairs was partially collapsed, only the rail still remained and led up to a small balcony and then onto the second floor. Between the two stair cases an elevator door stood open on an empty shaft. They both jumped as several birds, startled by their presence, erupted from the open elevator door and flew past them in a cloud of wings and raucous calls.

"Well shit!" Dean ducked as the birds went past and outside.

Sam laughed and then sneezed. "Place definitely has atmosphere." He dug a wad of Kleenex from his pocket and blew his nose.

"Dude. Keep the plague over there." Dean smirked as Sam sneezed again.

"Doing my best." Sam blew his nose and rubbed a hand over his eyes that felt like they were burning. "Where you wanna start?"

"Oh let's go with the obvious and try the basement first." Dean smiled.

Sam tucked his gun under his arm and pulled the hotel's blueprints out of his pocket. He went over to the ruin of the front desk and spread them out, shining his light on them. "Basement entrance should be…back there." He pointed to a hall behind the desk. "Nearest entry anyway. There's a few more on this floor." He left the map there, having committed most of it to memory. "We split up we can cover more of this place."

Dean nodded. "I'll go low, you go high." He pointed up. "You find anything you call me."

"Sam goes." Sam nodded. He clanged the barrel of his rifle to Dean's and went for the intact stairway while Dean climbed over the desk to the hall.

"This is a bad idea." Dean muttered and turned to watch Sam vanish up the stairs. He shook his head and played his light along the hall. Most of the doors were open and hanging off the hinges. They looked like they had once been offices with desks and filing cabinets. One of the larger rooms had several housekeeping carts covered in vines from the empty window and the smell of mildew was powerful as he passed. At the end of the hall he found the door to the basement. Dean pulled it open and went slowly down the stairs. Like everything else, vines covered them and tugged at his legs as he went. They caught his foot twice, almost sending him sprawling to the bottom.

"I really hope we get to torch this place before we leave." Dean glared up the stairs at the greenery once he reached the bottom. The basement was silent except for his footsteps as he strode slowly out into a wide open space. There were several halls leading off the far wall. He played the light along the floor and narrowed his eyes, kneeling to get a closer look. The layer of dust on the floor had been disturbed before he'd arrived. He couldn't tell if they were footprints or something else but it meant there was something other than a ghost operating in the hotel. "Crap." He pulled out his cell and dialed Sam to warn him as he followed the prints further in; hoping to find some sign of what they were hunting.

The phone rang and rang. With each ring, warning bells sounded in his head. Sam's voicemail picked up and Dean stuffed his phone in his pocket with a curse. "You better have forgot to turn the damn ringer on, Sammy." Dean grumbled and retraced his steps at a run. He had a bad feeling and couldn't shake it as he ran up the stairs, skipping a step at a time in search of his brother. "Sam!"

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_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER 3** _

Sam crept along the second floor hall and peered in each room as he passed. There was little furniture to speak of; the occasional bed frame, dresser or chair but most of the rooms had been emptied. He had the EMF meter in his pocket and periodically would hear it whine lightly but never enough to make him worry. There was certainly some sort of supernatural activity in the hotel but as yet it had not manifested. Still, he kept the rock-salt loaded shotgun handy. It may have been late morning but ghosts didn't always wait until dark to cause trouble.

He passed another open elevator shaft and leaned in, shining his light down and then up. The car was at the top of the shaft. Sam could see the bottom of it up there and quickly took his head out of the shaft. Dean would kill him if he got his head taken off by an elevator. The thought made him smirk. The meter in his pocket whined again and this time it was loud enough he took it out. The needle climbed to the right as a cold spot went through him and then died again.

Sam looked back and forth down the hall as the meter went silent. "Someone up here with me, huh?" He tread softly to the end of the hall and found a stairwell. The door had been knocked off its hinges and lay in the hall. Sam walked across it and headed up. He decided to see if he could reach the roof and have a look from above. He stuck his head out at each floor seeing more of the same; dimly lit halls, ivy crawling over everything and the occasional whine from the EMF but little else. He climbed to the top and found the door to the roof stubbornly closed. It took him three tries to shoulder it open and when he did he had to push through a screen of ivy to get out.

The rain had yet to let up. The cloud cover he had seen coming down the mountain behind the hotel had reached it. It hung over the roof like a cold mist. Sam felt drenched through in moments. Each breath felt like breathing water vapor and set him coughing. He ended up covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve to give himself some relief as he walked to the edge of the roof and peered over the side. Visibility had dropped to almost nothing with the cloud hanging around him. He could just see the dark shape of the Impala below.

"Well this idea sucked." Sam grumbled and went back to the ivy covered door blinking water from his eyes as he fought through the ivy to get back into the stairwell. He leaned against the stairwell wall and closed his eyes, coughing up phlegm and rubbing cold water from his hair and face while he did his best to ignore the fever making him shiver and his bones ache. "Pull it together, Sam." He told himself and started down the stairs. He wished the elevators were working; he'd have enjoyed not having to trudge back down six flights.

Sam dug his phone out of his pocket to call Dean and rolled his eyes. "Fantastic." There was no signal. "Next time we're bringing the walkie talkies."

He went more quickly down the stairs, stopping at each landing to catch his breath against the congestion in his chest. A sudden rumble from somewhere below vibrated the railing under his hand. As quickly as it started as it started, it stopped leaving an ominous silence in its wake.

"Dean?" Sam yelled and started to run down the stairs. He had a bad feeling. "Dean!" He reached the second floor and slid out into the hall. He ran, the beam of his light bouncing off the walls and floor as he went. The EMF meter in his pocket whined to life. He ignored it in a rush to find his brother. "Dean!" Sam burst out onto the balcony overlooking the lobby and slid to a stop, staring. A pillar had toppled over with its base resting on the bottom of the stairs and the greenery covered reception desk had been thrown across the open space to lean up against it. Near the stairs, a leather jacket clad arm stuck out from under the barrel of the pillar.

"Dean!" Sam scrambled down the stairs and climbed over the pillar. He dropped to his knees, put his face on the floor and shined the light underneath. "Dean, answer me! Dean?" He wrapped a hand around his brother's wrist, feeling for a pulse and gasped in relief when he found it. "Come on, man. Talk to me." Sam set his light and gun down and wrapped his arms around the pillar, trying to shift it. He groaned with the strain and ended up leaning over it coughing as it failed to move. "Dammit." Sam dropped back to the floor and wrapped a hand around Dean's bicep.

"Dean, you need to wake up now, man." Sam's voice was laced with worry. He had no way to call for help and he wasn't willing to leave Dean trapped to drive back down the mountain to get some. "Dean." He said more loudly, voice sharp. A soft moan from under the pillow drove a sliver of hope into him and he pressed his face to the floor in an effort to see his brother's face. "That's it, Dean. Wake up now."

"Dude." Dean's voice came softly and lightly slurred from under the rubble. "Crushin' my arm."

Sam laughed with relief and loosened his grip. "You ok?"

"I dunno." Dean opened his eyes and frowned. He was lying on his face and something heavy was pressing on his back, making it difficult to breathe but he didn't feel anything broken. "Think I'm ok." He had a vague memory of looking for Sam and then something had knocked him over.

"Ok, just…stay still." Sam squeezed his arm and stood again surveying the pillar. "You move at all?"

Dean squirmed and cursed. "Shit. No." He could move his left arm and his head but that was all. His right arm and lower body were effectively pinned. "What the hell landed on me?"

"Uh." Sam scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Pillar, the desk and some of the ceiling maybe. You got lucky."

"Yeah I feel lucky." Dean growled and tried to worm his way out toward Sam's flashlight with no luck. His head hurt and he could feel something, probably blood, moving in an irritating trail down the right side of his neck; tickling and itching as it went. "Anytime you wanna get me out of here."

"Working on it." Sam assured him. He needed something to act as a lever if he was going to get Dean free. "Be right back." He ran down the hall with Dean shouting after him and looked in each room as he passed. He stopped when he found a bed frame. "Nice." Sam kicked the metal frame apart and pulled one of the long beams with him as he went back to the lobby.

"Sam!" Dean yelled.

"Right here. Stay calm." Sam knelt by his arm and clasped his hand briefly. "I'm gonna get you out. Soon as you can, crawl toward me when I lift it." He heard Dean's muttered assent and planted one end of the metal bar under the pillar. "Ready?"

"Just get me outta here!" Dean wasn't particularly claustrophobic but being pinned was making him reconsider. He wanted out fast.

Sam planted his feet and pushed. He groaned with the effort and then had to fight against the cough or lose his grip. The beam shifted and creaked as the end lifted. He locked his knees and pushed harder to give Dean enough room.

Dean felt the weight on his back begin to lift and took his first deep breath. "Little more, Sam!" He used his left arm to pull himself and grunted, trying to push with his legs as Sam gave him another inch to work with. "Almost!"

Sam's arms strained with the effort of holding up the pillar, his chest burned and he was starting to become light headed with the effort. Still, he pushed harder and gave Dean a little more room. If he could have talked without dissolving into coughs he would have urged Dean to hurry but he knew he was moments away from a coughing fit that would put him on the floor. He could feel it. He glanced down and saw Dean's head emerge; his other arm come free as Dean pulled himself slowly from under the beam.

Dean looked up at Sam and scrambled harder to get clear. His brother's face was red with strain, his body trembling with it and eyes closed tight in concentration. He pushed with half numb legs and rolled to get clear. "Ok! Sam, let it go now."

Sam let the pillar drop back with a thump and bent double, finally letting loose the cough that had stolen his breath fighting it. He dropped to his knees with his eyes streaming and wheezed in a few breaths once the coughing passed.

"Sammy?" Dean rubbed feeling back into his right arm and got to his knees. He dropped a hand to the back of Sam's neck. "Shit. How long have you had that?" He asked, feeling the fever warm skin. Sam only shook his head, still gasping for air and coughing. "Ok. We're going."

Sam shook his head again and leaned back. "M'okay." He panted in a few breaths. "Gimme…a sec."

Dean scowled but sat back. He put a hand up to his head and came away red. "Awesome." Sam turned, eyes widening and grabbed Dean's face, turning it so he could see. "Hey, hands off." Dean said, irritated and swatted him away. "I got it." He pulled his bag out from under the pillar and dug out a cloth. "Stay put." Dean got unsteadily to his feet and went to the entrance. He stepped out far enough to let the cloth get wet with the rain and used it to wipe his face off. He hissed as he found the cut and cleaned it too before he went back to Sam.

"I'm ok." Sam worked to get his breathing under control and got one foot under him. He tried to stand and instead turned to lean against the fallen pillar. "How bad is it?" He looked up at his brother.

"Just a scratch." Dean rolled his eyes but turned his head so Sam could see the cut.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, it's ok." He rubbed a hand over his face and smiled ruefully. "What I get for landing on my ass in a ditch last night."

Dean chuckled and then swayed again. He nodded in thanks when Sam clamped a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "You find anything?"

"Some EMF readings upstairs." Sam hastily pulled out his Kleenex and blew his nose again. "That's about it."

"Got tracks of something or someone in the basement." Dean gave his head a little shake, happy when the floor stayed where it should.

"We need walkie-talkies." Sam informed him. "I couldn't get any signal on my phone."

"Huh." Dean scowled. "I got a signal in the basement. Called yours and got voicemail."

"What sort of tracks?" Sam coughed, trying to clear his voice suddenly gone hoarse. "Dammit."

"Couldn't tell." Dean handed Sam's discarded bag up to him and then his shotgun. "I didn't get to search the basement before I came looking for you. You up for it?"

Sam nodded, shouldering his bag. "I'm good. Nothing some Nyquil and a hot shower won't fix."

Dean studied him for a moment and nodded. "Fine. Let's go." He stretched and groaned. "Gonna have the impression of that damn pillar on my back for a week."

Sam searched around the floor and found the map he'd left behind; a little the worse for wear but still useable. He folded it back up and followed Dean around the wreckage and to the basement stairs.

"Watch yourself." Dean warned as he led the way down. "The vines'll try and catch your feet."

Sam kept a firm hold on the rail as they descended. "This crap is everywhere." He snaked a hand out and grabbed Dean's shoulder again as he stumbled, foot caught in the vines.

"I'm about ready to just set fire to the place and call it done." Dean grumbled and reached the bottom with Sam on his heels. He pointed his flashlight at the floor. "There. See them?"

"Yeah." Sam went past him to crouch and look more closely at the prints in the dust. "Can't tell what they are."

Dean went ahead of him when Sam stood. "You watch my back." He leveled the gun and light into the nearest hall where they tracks trailed off into darkness. He heard the map wrinkling behind him.

"There's a spa or something down this way I think." Sam turned the map again, trying to find it. "Some sort of all natural thing. Wait." He put the map near his face, narrowing his eyes trying to read it. "Maybe it's a hot spring."

"Don't care." Dean shrugged. "Unless whatever's munching on people is in there." He turned a corner and glanced back as Sam had another sneezing fit. "So, not sneaking up on it then." Dean chuckled.

Sam gave him a dirty look and put the map away. "Pretty sure we've made enough noise already it already knows we're here, if it's here. Maybe it's not."

Dean snorted as they reached a set of double doors and pushed one open. "Holy crap." He breathed as he went inside and shined his light around. "No wonder that ivy crap is down here too." The doors opened onto a man-made cave with smooth floors half hidden under the creeping ivy. Dwarf trees lined the walls and we're long dead with no one to care for them. Their leafless branches reached up to the roof and cast shifting shadows on the walls from their lights. The sound of running water filled the long room and Sam went forward, looking out and down where steps led away.

"Wow. There's a stream running right through here." Sam followed it with his light. It burbled up out of the back wall of the chamber to run in a half circle through the room and then vanish into a dark hole in the opposite wall. "There's a small river near the hotel. It's on the maps for the area." He looked back at Dean. "How loaded do you have to be to redirect a river through your hotel?"

Dean chuckled. "Pretty damn loaded." He searched the floor and nodded. "Whole lot of those prints in here." It put him on edge. "Looks like whatever it is, it likes to hang out down here."

"Can't blame it." Sam smiled. "It's kind of cool." He snorted a laugh. "In a 'I'm so rich I pay money to stay in a hotel with an indoor cave' kind of way." He scuffed his foot through some of the dead leaves and branches at the edge of the stream and knelt for a closer look. "Dean. Claw marks."

Dean came over and frowned. "So crazy sharp teeth and claws." He looked around the chamber again and now picked out every dark crevasse where something could be hiding. There were far too many for his liking.

"These are recent." Sam ran his fingers over the marks. There were dozens criss-crossing each other up and down the edge of the stream.

Both men jerked to their feet and turned as something burst through the doors in an explosion of wood. A dark shape flew into the cavern in a blur. They had little time to react as it slammed into Dean, knocking him into Sam and both were thrown backward into the stream.

Dean gasped as he hit the water. It was cold and deeper than it looked. The current was surprisingly strong and pulled him toward the hole in the wall. "Sam!"

"Here!" Sam slapped a hand into his brother's arm and grabbed hold, trying to reach the edge but the rock was slippery and he reared back as red eyes blinked at him from inches away. "Shit!" Their flashlights were gone and there was little to see. Sam grunted in pain as something hit the back of his head. He slipped under the water and realized they had been pulled into the hole by the stream.

"Sam!" Dean felt Sam's hand loosen on his arm and fumbled frantically to catch hold of him as they were pulled along in the pitch black. The chill in the water sapped the strength from him but he caught hold of Sam's jacket and dug his fingers into the material. "Sammy?"

Sam saw stars as the water churned them along. He blinked several times and found the stream had carried them through the base of the hotel and outside. He felt Dean's hand on his jacket; the rain falling gently on his face and then the stream fell, dumping them over a small waterfall into the river. He swallowed a mouthful of water and felt Dean's hand torn from its hold.

"Sam!" Dean shouted as they were pulled apart and then he was taken under the water. He fought for the surface and bobbed up in time to see a rock coming at him. Dean kicked hard and managed to glance off it with his shoulder. The run off from the mountain had turned the little river into white-water rapids. He saw Sam's head ahead of him before it went under water and came up again. He groaned in sympathy as he saw his brother slam into a boulder and roll away. He swam with the current, trying to reach Sam. Dean looked over to the bank of the river and startled to see something large and dark pacing them. Red eyes peered through the rain at them. A few moments later it stopped and watched as Dean and Sam were pulled away toward another waterfall.

Dean braced himself for the fall and could only watch as Sam went bonelessly over first. Dean spun on the drop, the water turning him until he wasn't sure which way was up. He crashed into the water at the bottom and sunk into the cold and the dark.

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_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER 4** _

Dean's lungs burned with the need for air. He felt the bottom beneath him and pushed off hard. He broke the surface and heaved in a breath, looking frantically for his brother as the current pulled him on. "Sam!" He shouted but got no response. The river was calmer there and he was able to swim and avoid the rocks. A splash drew his attention and he finally saw Sam clinging to a rock. "Hang on, Sam!" Dean swam for him, using the current to drive him faster and thumped into Sam. The impact tore his grip free from the rock but Dean had him now. He turned Sam and slid an arm around him to keep his head above water.

"Dean." Sam gasped in a voice thick with exhaustion and relief. He couldn't keep his eyes open. He'd lost track of how many times something hard had struck him and his head. It had been all he could do to hold his head above water; to not breathe in the river and give in to the darkness. He'd been tumbled around in a daze and only instinct had made him take hold of the rock as he slammed into it.

"I got ya, Sam. Hang on." Dean pulled strongly for the shore and ignored his own exhaustion. It pulled at him, telling him to stop with the frigid water sapping his resolve. At last he felt the bottom under his feet and stood with his brother. They stumbled out of the swirling river, Dean pulling and carrying Sam; forcing him out of the water and onto the bank. Exhaustion won at last and Sam dropped heavily to his knees in the mud; his grip on Dean's arm took his brother down with him.

Dean tugged Sam's head forward and felt through his hair. He found at least three distinct bumps. "Damn, Sammy. How many times did you hit your head in there?"

Sam groaned with the pain slashing through his skill and couldn't hold his head up anymore. He let it drop forward with a thump onto Dean's shoulder as darkness snuck in to try and claim him.

Dean froze as Sam went limp in his grasp, as his head fell onto his shoulder. Fear curled into his gut with the visceral memory of another time they had knelt in mud in an abandoned town and Sam had gone boneless and still against him; deathly still. He hastily took Sam's face in his hands, pulling his head up. "Sam? Sammy, you look at me!" Dean's voice was close to panic. Unlike last time, this time Sam's eyes cracked open, brows drawing together over bleary hazel eyes as evidence of the pain he was in and Dean sobbed in a short breath; smiling. "Hey, kiddo."

"I'm…ok." Sam said softly. He was afraid to raise his voice and cause himself more pain but he needed to allay the fear he'd heard in his brother's voice. He knew exactly what moment had a hold of Dean.

Dean nodded, letting Sam's head droop back to his shoulder and just held on to him for a moment. With the panic fading he could feel Sam's back rising and falling under his arm with his breathing and feel the pulse of his heart beneath his hand on his neck. "Ok, Sammy. Ok."

Sam shivered and could feel Dean shivering as well. "We get…somewhere dry now? Please?" Sam asked; his voice hoarse and muffled in the shoulder of his brother's sodden jacket.

Dean nodded as relief flooded through him and made him weak. "Yeah. In a minute. I need a minute." He felt Sam's head shift on his shoulder and looked around them, taking stock of their surroundings. The river churned past them on its way down the mountain. The rain still fell though it had let up to a near drizzle. He looked up the way they had come and could just make out the dark hulk of the hotel above. "Gonna be a hell of a hike back to the car." He muttered. "Ok. Let's get you up."

Sam sucked in a breath and did his best to get his legs under him as Dean rose and pulled him up. The world took a dizzying spin as pain speared behind his eyes. He felt his knees giving out and Dean's arms tightened their grip to keep him upright.

"Gotta work with me…Sam." Dean grunted with the effort of holding him up. Maybe it was all the water but Sam seemed to weigh more than normal. "Too far to…carry you. Come on, sasquatch."

"Sorry." Sam mumbled and locked his knees in place to stay standing. He knew he should get his head up off Dean's shoulder but couldn't seem to make himself move it.

"You just get your feet moving. I'll steer." Dean smirked when Sam snorted a soft laugh. He got them moving; slowly and he had to stop every few minutes to let Sam rest with his head down. "How's your vision?"

"S'okay. Just…damn it hurts." Sam had one hand wrapped around his head like he was holding it together.

"Not surprised. Your head feels like someone played whack-a-mole with it, dude." Dean pulled Sam up the hill with him one staggering step at a time through the rain. The forest around them helped to lighten the rain reaching them but it was still enough to keep them from being able to dry off.

"Shoes are squeaking." Sam smirked. "Sound like a mouse." He sneezed and rocked forward hard enough that Dean almost lost his grip and let him face-plant in the hill side.

"Whoa. Geez, warn a guy." Dean steadied his brother and started forward again. "How can you be putting off that much heat and still be shivering?" Sam's neck was uncomfortably warm under his hand.

"Lucky." Sam retorted and groaned as the Mariachi band in his head struck up again, pounding away at him. "Are we there yet?"

Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes up the hill. "Still got a ways to go." He wrapped an arm firmly around Sam's waist to keep him upright and moving. "So, you get a good look at that thing?"

"No. Just a blur." Sam frowned. "It was big. Dark. Red eyes. Claws." He jerked his head up. "Claws! Did it get you?" He suddenly remembered the thing crashing into Dean before it knocked them into the water. He fumbled trying to get Dean's jacket out of the way and check for wounds.

"Whoa, knock it off!" Dean batted his hand away. "I'm good. Didn't get me." He grabbed a tree to stop them falling when Sam wobbled. "Bruises, Sam. That's it."

Sam scowled at him in disbelief. "You'd lie to me. I know you would."

Dean laughed lightly and started them up the hill again. "Yeah I would but as it happens, this time I'm not." He hadn't been injured by the thing other than a hit to the stomach which ached. It worried him however that it had let them go. He supposed it could have expected them to drown but he didn't buy that. For some reason the creature, whatever it was, had let them escape this time and that worried him. His eyes roamed the forest around them, expecting the thing to come screaming out at them with every step. He still had his desert eagle at his back and had felt Sam's handgun at his as well so they weren't unarmed. The problem was, they had no idea what would even hurt it, let alone kill it.

It took them more than an hour to climb back up to the hotel. The clouds above had grown heavier, the rain came down harder and the fog that had rolled in from above still lay over the plateau as they staggered onto it. Dean had very nearly carried Sam the last twenty yards up the ever steepening incline while every hair on his body stood on end and told him they weren't safe.

"There she is, Sam. Almost there." Dean said softly as he had many times before, talking to keep Sam awake and focused. They both were shivering hard enough to rattle their teeth and Dean yearned to get in the car and blast the heater. He knew it was only afternoon but the cloud cover, the rain and the wintry fog made it feel more like evening and drive the chill into their bones. Dean watched everything, every swirl of fog, each twitch of a tree branch at the edge of the plateau as they made their way to the car.

Sam wished he could pick his head up without the ground spinning out from under him. He concentrated on breathing through the pain and keeping his feet moving. It surprised him when he felt Dean lean him up against something and he opened his eyes to see the Impala's roof. He fumbled for the door himself but Dean beat him too it and opened the door.

"In you go. Come on." Dean turned Sam and guided him into the passenger seat where he folded in on himself and slid over to rest his head on the driver's seat with a soft moan. "Dude." He groaned. Dean pushed the door shut and ran around the other side of the car. He opened the driver's side door and gave Sam's shoulder a nudge. "One side, little brother." He scowled when he didn't get a reaction and bent over him, pulling Sam's hair out of his face. "Sammy?"

Sam appeared to finally be completely unconscious. Dean rolled his eyes. "Awesome." He lifted his brother's head and shoulders and slid into the seat. "Hope to hell we don't get pulled over like this." He settled Sam's head on his leg with a chuckle and started the car. Some of the tension left Dean's shoulders as the engine growled to life. "That's my baby."

The trip back down the mountain was nerve-wracking between the fog and the rain. Dean white-knuckled his grip on the steering wheel and resisted the urge to speed as the wind periodically gusted; buffeting the car. Sam remained unconscious, his head in Dean's lap and he kept a hand on his brother's chest to feel the comforting rise and fall as he breathed. Even the difficult driving conditions wouldn't make him put both hands on the wheel. He needed the tactile reassurance that Sam was alive.

"You don't wake up before we hit town I'm taking you to a hospital, Sam." Dean warned his insensible brother. "You're worrying me." Sam stirred as if in answer. Dean slowed and looked down. "Sammy? You back with me?"

"S'too hot." Sam mumbled.

Dean frowned and put his hand to Sam's neck. "You're still running a fever. Sam?"

"Wha?" Sam blinked blurry eyes open and scowled, unable to make sense of where he was. His cheek rested on something soft and he was looking at the bottom of the steering wheel and…a denim clad knee? He tried to roll his head up for a look and groaned as nausea attacked him.

"Don't move, dude." Dean put a hand on his head to make him stay still. "Wait'll we get to the motel."

Sam stopped trying to move and closed his eyes again. "M'I wet?"

"Yeah, dude. Swim in the river, remember?" Dean glanced back down at him and started to revise going to the hospital but Sam nodded slowly.

"Remember. Got jumped." Sam swallowed hard to push back the nausea that was still welling up. He got a hand up to his head. "Head hurts."

"Almost there." Dean sped up as they passed the little diner and reached the edge of town. The wind died away and the rain slowed but didn't stop. He pulled into the motel and parked with a sigh before turning to his brother. "Ok, buddy. You gotta sit up now. Go slow." He carefully pushed Sam up until he was sitting and watched his face run through several shades of green. "You good?"

Sam nodded once and closed his eyes, working to not throw up in the car. He heard Dean get out and a moment later felt his door open and then his brother's hand on his shoulder. "Ok." Sam let Dean pull his legs out and get him standing. He made it two steps away from the car before his stomach revolted. The pain drove the bile up his throat and he was on his knees retching on the ground before it even registered. He could hear Dean talking to him but couldn't make out the words; could feel Dean's hands holding him up but he didn't have the energy to thank him and then he tumbled back into blissful darkness.

"Ah dammit!" Dean caught his brother's weight as he collapsed and leaned him back so he could see Sam's face. He was pale and even in the never-ending rain covered in a fever sweat. "Last time today I'm carrying your gigantor ass, Sammy." Dean leaned him against the car and ran to open the room door. He came back and pulled Sam up over his shoulder with a groan. "Not…helping…my bruised ribs, dude."

He carried Sam into their room and carefully laid him out on the far bed before running back outside to close the car door. Dean peeled his jacket off and tossed it with a wet splat into the bathroom and went to his brother. Dean sat beside him and pulled Sam unresisting up, propping him against his shoulder and worked his jacket off of him as well as his flannel. Sam coughed and shifted on his shoulder.

"Sammy?" Dean stopped and steadied his brother's head on his shoulder. "You back with me again?"

Sam groaned in response. "Dean?"

"The one and only." Dean eased him back down to the bed. "You gonna hurl again?"

Sam shook his head slowly with his eyes closed tight. "Uh-uh."

"Not convincing." Dean smirked. He got up and grabbed the trashcan from the bathroom and set it beside the bed then went back and wet down a washcloth before sitting back beside him. "Here." He laid the cloth over Sam's forehead and got a contented sigh in response. He chuckled. "Enjoy it while it lasts, princess."

"Bite me." Sam muttered but cracked an eye open to see his brother when he stood. "You ok?"

"Better than you." Dean pulled his shirts off over his head and cringed when the bruising across his chest pulled. "Ow." He saw Sam's eyes widen and slapped a hand down to his shoulder when he tried to move. "Stay put. It's fine and you'll just yak again if you sit up."

"That is not fine." Sam pointed to the vivid bruising across Dean's chest and stomach.

"Nothing's broken, dude. I'm good." Dean rolled his eyes. He tapped Sam's head lightly when he moaned and closed his eyes again. "Marching band still refusing to yield in there?"

Sam snorted a laugh in spite of the pounding in his skull and put an arm over his eyes to block out the light. "Just pour some painkillers in me. I'll be fine."

"Uh huh." Dean rubbed a hand over his sore chest with one hand and dug through his bag for the first aid kit with the other. He pulled out the bottle of painkillers and another of cold medicine and took them over to Sam. "Here. Dose yourself while I take a shower." He put them in Sam's hand and pushed over a bottle of water as well. "No bullshit, Sam. Take 'em both. That fever you got brewing gets worse you're not going back up there with me."

"No way in hell I'm letting you go back up there yourself." Sam growled and moved his hand to glare up at him. "Don't even think about it." He shook out pills from both bottles and swallowed them dry, careful not to move his head too much. "I'll be good by tonight."

"Take a nap, princess." Dean turned off the light by the bed and went into the shower, chuckling when Sam flipped him off.

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Sam woke with a gasp as something cold pressed against his neck. He flailed a hand out and scowled when it was caught in a firm grip.

"Knock it off." Dean waited for Sam's eyes to find him and smiled. "Just me, fever boy." He let go of his brother's arm and grabbed another bag of ice, setting it against the other side of Sam's neck and then two more under his arms. "We could fry eggs on your head right now, dude."

"Shit." Sam shivered with the touch of the ice but could feel the heat inside him. "Time is it?"

"Afternoon. You hungry?" Dean watched him for signs the thought of food was going to make him throw up and smiled when it didn't.

"Maybe." Sam closed his heavy eyes. "Soup maybe?"

"Soup I can do." Dean tugged the blanket up across his chest and thumped his hand into it. "Sit tight and don't screw with the ice. I'll be back."

"Where are you going?" Sam started to move but Dean forced him back down.

"What'd I just say?" Dean frowned and waited until Sam calmed. "I'm going to get you soup and you're gonna lay here and not move until I get back. Capice?"

Sam nodded wearily. "Ok. Sorry."

"Just…get some sleep." Dean patted his shoulder and stood back, waiting to see if Sam was going to try again.

"I'm good." Sam shifted to get more comfortable. "Go on." He listened to Dean leave and let himself settle back into the bed, resisting the urge to push the bags of ice away. He felt like crap and slightly humiliated to have come down with a stupid cold in the middle of a hunt; never mind the pounding his head had taken in the river. Sam didn't fight the pull of exhaustion, letting it roll over him and pull him down into sleep. He was nearly there when the shrill ringing of a phone startled him awake. He lifted his head up carefully and groaned.

"Of course." His phone was ringing and Dean had left it on the table across the room. "I'm coming." Sam sat up carefully and slowly. "Keep your pantyhose on." He muttered as his phone rang again. The ice bags rolled away into the bed as he stood on shaky legs. His head swam and he wasn't sure if it was from the fever or the concussion. He staggered to the table and scooped up his phone, flipping it open. "Hello?"

"Sam. What took you so long?" Bobby asked. "You idjits coulda called me sooner. How'd it go up at the hotel?"

Sam dropped his head into his hand and tried to organize his thoughts. "Uh…not so good. There was…something up there."

"Something?" Bobby leaned over his desk, listening to the odd timber of Sam's voice. "You alright, son?" He waited and when Sam didn't answer the first niggle of worry came over him. "Sam! You still there?"

"Yeah. Sorry." Sam was having trouble. Standing up had been a bad idea, he decided. Without the ice his fever was making him feel as though he were cooking in his own skin. His head felt heavy and Bobby's voice sounded like it was coming through water; distant and muffled. "Bobby…"

"Sam? What's wrong?" Bobby's worry spiked as Sam said his name and sounded lost and confused. "Sam, you talk to me son. Sam?" He heard a groan and then the sound of something heavy hitting the floor along with a clattering sound of the phone dropping. "Sam!" He waited but heard nothing. "Dammit!" He hung up and dialed Dean.

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_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

_**CHAPTER 5** _

Dean tapped his fingers impatiently on the bar. He'd opted for the restaurant Sam had tried to find the night before. The place was anything but friendly. Everyone in there had stopped cold when he'd walked in to stare at him for a moment before going back to their meals and the waitress; a stodgy old waitress with grey hair had given him a dirty look before taking his order. He let his eyes roam over the collage of pictures behind the bar in boredom. They were mostly pictures of gap-toothed locals; quite a few were of what had to be idiot ghost hunters decked out in cameras and night vision goggles in front of the hotel. There were several of the forested mountain slopes around the hotel, some bears and he narrowed his eyes at a photo half covered in the center of the collage. Dean eased around the end of the bar for a closer look and pulled it out from the other pictures.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" The waitress growled and came up the bar at Dean like a walking storm, ready to lay waste to him.

Dean raised his hands and smiled, trying for charming. "Nothing! I was just looking at all the pictures you've got up here." He gestured. "My little brother's got a thing for rare animals. Real weirdo." He smirked and shrugged as she stopped next to him and seemed to deflate slightly.

"Little brother?" She glared up at him.

Dean nodded. "That's who the chicken soup's for. Kid's got himself a hell of a cold." He resisted the urge to chuckle when she visibly softened; mistaking his little brother for a child, just as he expected her too. "He loves stuff like this." He held up the picture he'd taken down. "What is this thing?"

The waitress tipped the photo to get a look at it and rolled her eyes. "Oh that one. Probably a bear someone took a fuzzy picture of." She chuckled. "Think it was one of those idiot ghost guys who took that one. Tried to tell me it was some sorta rare creature or some crap."

Dean laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, my little brother buys into that crap. Hey. You don't suppose…" He paused and looked at her, trying to seem embarrassed. "You think I could have this? It'd put a smile on his face and he's really miserable right now."

"Well." The waitress smiled and nodded. "I don't see why not. I'll be right back."

Dean smothered a laugh and tucked the picture away. He waited and smiled again when she returned and put a bag on the bar beside him. "Thanks for this."

"Oh it's no problem." The waitress patted the bag into place and smiled up at him again. "I put a couple things in there for your brother; make the little dear feel better in no time."

Dean had to duck his head to hide the amused grin. "He'll love it, I'm sure. Thanks, doll." He smiled at the pleased blush that climbed up her face and grabbed the bag, heading for the door as his phone rang. "No woman can stay mad at me." Dean said smugly as he stepped outside and fished his phone from his pocket. "Hello?"

"Dean! Get your ass back to your brother now!" Bobby's strained voice shouted out from the phone.

"What? Why?" Dean stopped in his tracks with fear rearing its head. "I just left him Bobby. He's fine. I mean, he's banged up some and running a damn fever but…"

"He passed out or something while I was talkin' to him." Bobby cut him off. "Get back there now!"

"Shit!" Dean ran to the car and threw himself behind the wheel. He squealed out of the parking lot and onto the street while dialing Sam's number with one hand. It rang and went to voice mail with no answer. "What the hell'd you do, Sammy?" He fought the wheel as the car tried to hydroplane and tried Sam's cell again with the same result. "I told you to stay in bed you idiot." He was forced to draft around the corner into town as the back wheels of the Impala lost their traction and kept the car on the road through will alone; thankful there wasn't a cop around to nail him for reckless driving. Dean sped through town to the motel and screeched to a stop outside their room. Jumping from the car at a run, he slapped into the door and threw it open.

"Sam?" Dean absently kicked it shut behind him and looked for his brother. His bed was empty and Dean bent to pick up his open cell phone from the floor. He heard the shower running and dashed into the bathroom. "Sam!"

The shower was on and the curtain open, spraying cold water in a mist through the bathroom. Sam lay curled up in the bottom of the tub under the spray still in his clothes. Dean reached in and shut off the water. He took Sam's shoulders and rolled him to him, wrapping an arm around his sodden chest.

"Sammy?" Dean took a relieved breath when Sam's eyes fluttered open.

"Dean." Sam's voice was hoarse and tired. He'd passed out talking to Bobby and woken in a daze but aware enough to know he was far too hot for his own good. It had taken every ounce of energy he had to crawl into the bathroom and get in the tub. Turning the shower on had almost seemed like too much effort but he'd managed and then passed out again under the blissfully cold spray. "Fever spiked."

"No kidding." Dean shook his head. "You know you're not supposed to shower in your clothes, genius."

Sam smirked. "Ge'me outta here. S'cold."

"Suppose that's a good sign." Dean pulled him up slowly and held him steady while Sam eased his legs out of the tub and then sat him on the edge. "Makin' a habit of the drowned rat look."

"Bite me." Sam dropped his head into his hands. "You grab my bag?"

Dean nodded and went out into the room. He pulled Sam's bag up on the bed and dug through it, pulling out dry clothes and went back. He snorted a laugh. Sam had gotten his shirt off but his wet jeans were proving to be a problem with him working to support himself on the counter with one hand and peel the wet denim down with the other.

"Shut up." Sam said grumpily. "I can do this."

Dean nodded, wisely saying nothing and left the dry clothes on the sink and pulled the door shut behind him as he left the bathroom. He took his phone out and dialed Bobby as he went quickly back outside to rescue the bag of food from the Impala's front seat; completely forgotten in his concern for his brother. "Hey Bobby." Dean greeted as the older hunter's gruff voice greeted. He grabbed the food and ducked back into the room before the rain drenched him again.

"Is Sam ok? What the hell took you so long?" Bobby demanded as soon as he heard Dean's voice. He'd been pacing a hole in the floor waiting for Dean to call and couldn't stop his mind from going to every worst possible scenario; far too many of which they had already experienced in the last several years many times over. He was braced now for the worst.

Dean snorted a laugh. "Don't have an aneurism. He's ok. His fever spiked and he feinted."

"Passed out!" Sam called from the bathroom in a disgruntled tone of voice.

Dean laughed. "He feinted. He's fine. Took a cold shower in his clothes."

"That's it? He's got a damn cold? What the hell are you boys doing up there?" Bobby shouted, rolled his eyes and allowed himself to relax now he knew Sam wasn't dying alone on a motel room floor. He took a deep breath and let the fear settle.

"Trying to find out what the hell dumped us in the damn river. Hang on." Dean lowered his phone and fished the picture from the diner out of his jacket. He snapped a quick picture and sent it on. "You've got mail."

"Boy." Bobby growled, irritated and looked at his phone as it dinged with the message received. He frowned and squinted. "What the hell is that?"

"No idea but." Dean set the picture on the little table and sat. "I'm thinking that's our bad guy."

"Never seen nothin' like it." Bobby sighed. "How's Rufus?"

"Last time I checked? The same." Dean shrugged. "Don't suppose we could just dump holy water on the bite and fix him?"

Now Bobby snorted. "Not likely. I'll start looking for this thing. The picture will help. Would you two try and stay out of trouble for five damn minutes?" Bobby growled. "I aint got much hair left to go gray that aint already thanks to you two idjits."

Dean chuckled. "Yes, sir." He flipped the phone closed as Sam emerged unsteadily from the bathroom. "Got soup over here." Dean gestured and worked not to laugh as Sam weaved across to the table and dropped into the other chair. "Lemme see em." He leaned over and knocked Sam's chin up with a knuckle and ignored the dirty look his brother gave him, focusing on his eyes.

"I'm fine." Sam brushed his hand away, irritated.

Dean smirked but nodded. Sam's pupils were even, something they hadn't been when he got him back to the room. "You'll live. Here." He pushed the photograph over to him. "Have a look."

Sam picked up the picture while Dean dug in the bag and studied it. It was a blurry photo of a humanoid looking creature; two arms, two legs, one head. The dark figure meshed with the vague image Sam had in his head from the hotel basement and the photographer had even caught the red glow of one its eyes. He frowned at the picture and brought it closer to his face. "Huh."

"What?" Dean set a Styrofoam soup container in front of Sam along with a plastic spoon. "You see something?"

"I swear…I've seen something like this before." Sam sat back and closed his eyes. "In a book I think. One of Bobby's. Damn." He rubbed a hand over his forehead trying to relieve the pounding headache there. "I can't remember."

"Considering your eggs got scrambled tonight I'm not surprised." Dean plucked the picture out of his hand. "Eat. Bobby's sure to find it then. He's already looking."

Sam pulled the soup over and pried off the lid, inhaling the scent and was happy his stomach didn't turn. "I think this is gonna be bad." He fought his shaking hand to spoon up the soup. "I can't remember where I saw it but I remember thinking I hope we never run into it."

"Oh that makes me feel better." Dean groaned and pulled his burger out of the bag. He set it aside and leaned over the bag and started to chuckle.

"What?" Sam asked. Dean only started to laugh harder. "What the hell is so funny?"

Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes and reached into the bag. "Waitress put a couple extras in for my….uh…sick little brother." He pulled out a cup of pudding and set it on the table, then a wrapped cookie with an impromptu smiley face in icing and then he shook his head, giving in to the laugh completely as he handed the bag to Sam.

Sam took it as if it would explode and looked inside. He glared back up at Dean. "Are you kidding me?" He upended the bag on the table and several crayons fell out along with a couple pages taken from a Sleeping Beauty coloring book. "You're such a jerk."

Dean wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and shrugged. "It's almost like she knows you." He easily ducked the dripping noodle Sam threw at him with a laugh. "Eat your soup already. Wanna have time to color before night night."

"You better sleep light for a while." Sam scowled at him and then smiled in a way that made Dean uneasy. "Or I will shave you bald in your sleep."

"Yeah, right." Dean rolled his eyes and tried not to cringe at the steady look of promise on his little brother's face. "You wouldn't."

Sam shrugged, grinning and started on his soup. "I so would." He rested his elbow on the edge of the table and propped his aching head up in his hand while he ate and smirked up at Dean.

Dean studied his face. "Only reason I don't start a prank war right now is you're practically walking wounded already." He sat back smugly. "We get done with this job though and I just might."

Sam snorted and concentrated on eating. He still felt like crap though his fever at least seemed to be under control finally. His teasing was little more than a ploy to distract Dean from looking too closely at him. He'd worried his brother enough.

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Dean groaned himself awake with the pounding in his head. He brought a hand up to rub across his face and then scowled. The pounding wasn't in his head. He jerked the knife out from under his pillow as someone banged on the door to their room again.

"Dean?" Sam pushed himself up sleepily. "You order room service?"

"Stay there." Dean ordered and went to the door. "Who is it?"

"Open up, dumb ass." Bobby's gruff voice sounded.

"What the hell?" Dean looked over to see Sam shrug. He unlocked the door and swung it open. "Bobby? What the hell are you doing here?"

Bobby pushed past him into the room and dropped a heavy duffel bag on Dean's bed. "Mornin' Sam. How you feelin?"

"Better." Sam smiled and sat up. "Bobby?"

"You boys need backup on this one." Bobby said decisively. "You gonna shut that door or you need some more air, princess?" He said to Dean with a smirk.

Dean shook his head and closed the door, flipping on the lights. "How do you even know where we are?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Tracked the GPS on your phone, idjit." He said as if it should have been obvious. "Figured I'd avoid the part where you try and tell me you don't need help."

"You found it." Sam said and got to his feet. "The creature. You know what it is."

Bobby nodded; his face gone serious. "Oh yeah. I found it alright."

"Why do I get the feeling this job just went from bad to worse?" Dean rolled his eyes and sighed. "Can we have coffee first? I need coffee."

Sam chuckled. "I'll get it brewing." He went over to and took the pot from the coffee maker, heading into the bathroom to fill it.

Bobby opened his bag and pulled out a few books and a stack of papers. "So this thing, it's not a creature…exactly."

Dean followed him and dropped into a chair at the table. "Then what exactly is it?"

"Technically, it's a god." Bobby watched Dean's brows rise and nodded. "One of the old gods. I'm talkin' real old."

"Terrific." Sam came back and filled the coffee maker. "I thought Lucifer pretty much killed them all off last year."

"Not this one. It's Sumerian." Bobby flipped open one of the books and handed it to Sam. "Ninurta."

"Great. Evil god chick." Dean pulled the pile of Bobby's research toward him. "What we're the chances we'd run into more old gods like Kali and the elephant man. What his name?"

"Guy. Ninurta is male." Sam said absently as he read the passage Bobby had marked and studied the picture. "And the elephant man's name was Ganesh. He was Hindu, dude."

"Whatever. No wonder this Ninurta's so bitchy. Getting stuck with a girl's name." Dean snorted at Sam's disgusted look.

Sam looked up with wide eyes. "I remember this now." He lowered the book and stared at Bobby. "Crap."

"Yeah." Bobby nodded in understanding.

"One of you book-geeks wanna fill me in here?" Dean said, his voice getting testy with the early hour and the feeling of being left out of the loop.

"We can save Rufus' dumb ass." Bobby waved a hand at Sam and the coffee maker, silently asking before sitting across from Dean. "We gotta get hold of some of Ninurta's blood, mix it with Holy water and a few other things I brought along and cleanse the bite wound with it. Catch is…Ninurta has to be alive when we take the blood or it won't work."

"Oh, is that all." Dean groaned.

"He has to stay alive until we cure him or the blood will be inert." Sam handed Bobby a cup of coffee and then gave one to Dean before pouring one for himself and went to sit on the end of the bed with the book. "We can't gank him until Rufus is clean."

"Well shit." Dean took a first, grateful sip of the coffee and willed it to work faster to wake him up. "Maybe we can just ask him to hand over a pint."

Bobby turned to give Sam a searching look and nodded, happy with what he saw. The night's sleep seemed to have taken care of the worst of whatever had happened yesterday. "I'm thinkin' we nab Rufus' sorry ass from the hospital and bring him here to cure him. Don't think all those doctors would appreciate us dosing their patient. Not to mention, I dunno what the cure's gonna do to him."

Sam nodded. "That should work. He's hooked up to a lot of machines but they were monitoring, not life support. Not yet anyway." He said softly.

"So we have to go back up there today." Dean groaned. "Man, I just dried out finally."

Sam chuckled. "I don't think we're going to be dry again until Ninurta is dead." He set the book aside and focused on his coffee. "Ninurta is an underworld demon responsible for floods, sinking ships, torrential rains and calling up the South Wind." He smirked when Dean cussed. "He actually pre-dates the Bible by over two thousand years."

"Let's not tell Cas. He might feel inadequate." Dean smirked and then scowled, still unhappy with the way their guardian Angel had treated them. They could have died or been stuck forever in Bizarro world and all because Castiel had a crazy plan and couldn't be bothered to ask them first. He shook his head. It pissed him off.

"Ninurta feeds off a human's life force." Bobby flipped open a book in front of Dean and gestured. "Says here he can feed from a distance once he's tasted the blood. Victims can live for days gettin' weaker and weaker until their bodies just stop."

"Like Rufus." Sam said sadly.

Bobby quickly drew up a plan with them, eager to get up the mountain and find the old God, drain some of its blood and get Rufus moving again so he could kill him. He was angry with him for going after this thing without backup, without Bobby and more; for not giving him a heads up. He could have warned his boys instead of letting them go in blind. He looked over at Sam, cradling his head in his hands again and sighed.

"Son, you up for this?" Bobby asked Sam gently and smiled when Sam jerked his head up with a quick nod.

"I'm good, Bobby." Sam assured him. "Head hurts and I feel like crap but I'm good."

Dean snorted. "He's one step up from walking wounded."

"You try and leave me behind I'll just follow you up there." Sam glared over at his brother. "So don't even think about it. No way I'm letting you go up after a damn god on your own."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Bobby said indignantly.

"Sorry, Bobby." Sam smiled and raised his hands in placation. "You know what I mean."

"Uh huh." Bobby gave him another glare for good measure and stood. "Well come on then. Sooner we get this done, the sooner we can send that thing back to the underworld."

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Daylight, such as it was through the rain heavy clouds, didn't help make the forest surrounding the hotel any less creepy. Dean played with the medicine bag Bobby had strung around his and Sam's necks. It was filled with a combination of herbs that, in theory, would keep Ninurta from getting close enough to bite them. That was the theory anyway but the source material was three thousand years old as Sam had pointed out. He wiped rain from his face and glanced back at the Impala; parked just inside the tree line and, he hoped, out of harm's way should the hotel's ghosts decide to start lobbing pieces of architecture around again.

Dean gave the hotel a long look as they neared. "I think I hate this place now."

Sam chuckled and hefted his shotgun. "I think it's beautiful."

"Of course you do." Dean rolled his eyes.

"You two knuckle-heads wanna get your heads in the game here?" Bobby said, amused in spite of himself. "You ever find out how many ghosts are roaming around in there?"

Sam shook his head. "No way to know for sure." He pulled his EMF meter out of his pocket as they stepped over the ruin of the entrance. "Hopefully most of them aren't very active except of course for the one that dropped a pillar on Dean."

"Yeah, let's not do that again." Dean took out his own EMF. "Basement entrance we used is back that way." He gestured.

Bobby nodded and started across the entrance hall. He stopped as a wind blew up. "Balls."

"Must still be riled up from us being here yesterday." Sam observed as the meters in his and Dean's hands began to whine; the needles burying themselves in the red quickly.

"We do not have time for this crap." Bobby growled as a loud groan echoed through the empty building and plaster began to sift down from the high ceiling above.

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_To Be Continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER 6** _

"What did you do to piss this one off last time?" Sam asked, half amused as Dean growled up at the ceiling. "Whoever it is really doesn't like you."

"We don't know it's gunning for me specifically." Dean argued and then had to duck as a light fixture ripped itself from the wall at the far end of the hall and whipped past his head. "Ok. Never mind. How the hell should I know?"

"Maybe this ghost can sense bullshit." Bobby muttered and grinned as Sam burst into laughter.

"What was that?" Dean glared but Bobby only shook his head with a smile.

"Nothing." Bobby took his arm and yanked him closer as the pillar still crumbled on the floor shimmied in its spot.

"We need to get somewhere with less ammunition." Sam was eyeing the rows of spindles lining the staircases; they were beginning to twist and tremble. "Now." He went to them and gave both men a push toward the hall leading to the basement.

"Ok. Ok." Dean let Sam herd him and Bobby out of the entry and into the narrower hall. He grunted when Sam suddenly threw himself into his back and tumbled all three of them to the floor. A moment later there was an odd series of knocks behind them. Dean rolled, pushing Sam off him and his eyes widened in surprise. A handful of spindles from the staircase were embedded in the wall at the mouth of the hall like small spears. "Shit! Sammy?"

"Didn't get me." Sam told him quickly and smiled. He picked himself up off the floor and gave a hand to Bobby. "Sorry."

Bobby stared at the projectiles. "That would'a hurt." He brushed himself off and grabbed his shotgun back up from the floor along with Dean's and handed it to him.

"Can we go before it reloads?" Dean said flippantly. He started down the hall again toward the basement stairs. Murky daylight filtered through the open doors along each side from the empty windows and the sound of falling rain was an ever-present background noise. He paused as the EMF in Sam's hand screamed into the quiet.

"Well that can't be good." Bobby grumbled.

A stiff wind blew into the hall. It was strong enough to stagger all three men for a moment and it was frigid with other-worldly energy. "Now what?" Sam raised his shotgun, waiting for something…anything to appear and give him a target. The wind stopped as suddenly as it started. He traded tense looks with Dean and Bobby. He took a step toward his brother and the wind came back. It was stronger, verging on cyclonic as it erupted through the hall. He had no time to brace himself as it slammed into him and threw him backward.

"Crap!" Dean shouted as he was picked up and tossed like a rag doll through the nearest door by the gust and heard Bobby's equally surprised and angry yell as he too was made airborne.

Bobby cartwheeled through the air back into the entry hall and slapped into the floor, slid across the marble and came to rest beside Sam. He gasped in a few breaths and rolled over. "Son, you ok?"

Sam groaned and nodded. "Yeah. Just…ready to stop having my head cracked. Ow." He looked at Bobby and then around the hall and jerked up. "Dean!"

Dean sucked in a breath to prepare himself for an impact with the wall that didn't come. Instead, he was thrown through the glassless window. The vines crawling across the opening slowed his flight somewhat. He had a moment to be thankful they were on the first floor and then he tore through the vines and thumped into the ground, knocking the air from his lungs. He could feel a few scratches on his face and neck from his trip through the greenery.

"Son of a bitch." Dean gasped and rolled to his knees slowly. He knelt and looked back at the hotel. "That friggin hurt you Casper son of a bitch!" He shouted angrily as he rubbed at his left shoulder and tried to soothe the ache from the impact away. The rain sluiced down his face. "Great. Sore and wet. Again."

He looked around as he heard his brother shout his name. "Sam!" He called back and got achingly to his feet. He saw his shotgun a few feet away and went to retrieve it. He bent to pick it up and froze as a growl sounded from far to near for his liking. Dean looked up slowly and jerked in surprise; Ninurta stood not thirty feet away by the side of the hotel, half hidden in shadows and vines. "Oh…crap." He raised a hand to his chest, instinctively feeling for Bobby's charm bag. It wasn't there. "What the?" He looked down and then back at the window and threw his arms out. "Great!" The small charm bag swung from one of the vines in the window. "Not good. Very not good." He backed a step away and the creature came one nearer. He finally got a good look at the 'god'. His skin was covered in fine, dark hair. Red eyes pierced out at him from below heavy brows in a leonine face and easily conveyed the danger Dean was in. The creature raised hands with abnormal long fingers, tipped with curved claws and pointed at him as it opened its mouth and bared a row of sharp fangs.

Bobby scrambled to his feet and grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him up at the same time. "He'll be alright. Come on."

Sam nodded and shook his head to clear the cobwebs. "Dean!" He shouted again as he and Bobby headed for the hallway. The sound of a shotgun blast echoed in from outside and he staggered to a stop. "How is he outside?" Sam spun and ran for the door. He ignored the wind that still blew and ducked a table leg as it arrowed for his head. He skidded through the door with Bobby on his heels and outside. "Dean!"

Bobby came behind him and gasped. Ninurta was outside as well and bearing down on Dean. As he watched, Dean fired again but the creature barely slowed. Dean turned to run too slow and the Sumerian demon crashed into him and bore him to the ground.

"No!" Sam yelled. He dropped his shotgun and drew the knife from the small of his back. He sprinted the distance between them.

Dean grunted with the force of the impact and again as the weight of the creature crushed him down into the water-logged grass. "Get off me!" He tried to roll and heard his brother yelling his name. Bobby's voice joined his. There was the sound of another shotgun firing and then white hot pain exploded in his shoulder. He heard a scream and realized it was his own voice. Dean choked off the sound and could feel nothing beyond the creature's teeth in him and the sensation of his life being sucked away through the wound. He felt Ninurta jerk above him and then the pain finally overwhelmed him into darkness.

Sam ran full out, knowing surprise was his only advantage. He heard Bobby fire at the thing and as before, it ignored the rock salt. He crashed into the creature's flank and wasted no time sinking his knife in beneath its shoulder. He purposefully avoided the heart, or where he thought it might be, and went instead for blood loss. Ninurta rose up from Dean suddenly with an enraged scream. Sam fought to hold on to the blood slicked hilt of the blade.

"Bobby!" Sam shouted and then saw the older Hunter dart in beside him. Sam struggled to hold the old god in place; muscles straining with the effort as it screamed and tried to reach the irritant on its back holding it in place. "Hurry up!"

Bobby ducked a swing of one clawed hand and yanked a small jar from his jacket, putting it beneath the open wound Sam had created. Blood sluiced from around the blade and into the jar. He glanced at Sam's reddened face and knew he only had seconds. He danced away from another swipe and backed away quickly; his prize in hand.

"I've got it! Sam!" Bobby set the jar carefully on the ground. "Let him go!"

Sam heard and tried to pull the knife free. The blade was stuck fast and he lost his grip on the beast's shoulder. Ninurta spun and backhanded Sam, sending him flying before it raced off the plateau and into the forest.

"Sam!" Bobby knelt by him worriedly.

"I'm ok." Sam said, breathless. "Dean. Check Dean."

Bobby patted his shoulder and jogged back to Dean, dropping to his knees beside him. The back of his right shoulder was coated in blood and the jacket and shirts beneath in tatters where Ninurta's teeth had pierced through. "Come on, son." Bobby put a shaking hand to his neck and sighed when he found the pulse there. "He's alive." He called and startled when Sam bumped him as he went around.

"Dean?" Sam dropped beside his brother and gently rolled him over.

"He'll be alright, Sam." Bobby assured him. "It bit him but we've got the blood. We can fix this."

Sam nodded silently. "Dean." Sam gave him a small shake. When he received no response he rubbed his knuckles firmly along Dean's sternum. That elicited a groan and after a moment, Dean's eyes slitted open. "Hey." Sam smiled in relief.

"M…m'a chewtoy?" Dean asked, slurring and groaned when Sam nodded.

"Yeah, dude." Sam squeezed his good shoulder. "How do you feel?"

Dean looked up between them and closed his eyes, trying to assess that. His shoulder burned with pain and he could feel the wet sensation that meant blood and lots of it. More disconcerting than that was that he could still feel some indefinable part of himself leaking slowly away. Ninurta was draining his life force as he had his other victims. "Tell me…got the blood?"

Bobby nodded. "We got it. Come on, Sam." He nudged Sam's arm. "Let's get him back."

Sam slid an arm behind Dean's back. "Let's go slow. This is gonna hurt."

Dean nodded and cursed the fact that he seemed unable to make himself move. His entire body had been taken over by lethargy and felt almost tingly, as though his limbs were falling asleep. He couldn't even muster the energy to wipe the rain from his eyes. Dean groaned in pain as Sam and Bobby lifted him up so he was sitting. "Shit." He ground out between clenched teeth.

"Sorry." Sam said softly. He was working to hide the panic gripping him. All the other survivors had slipped into comas so it was only a matter of time before his brother became insensible. It rocked him on a fundamental level to see Dean this helpless and couldn't help but remember how he had looked much the same; pale, blood spattered and boneless in his grasp the day the Hellhounds had taken him. He shook himself free of the memory and slid behind Dean to take his shoulders while Bobby moved down to his feet.

"We'll put him in the backseat." Sam lifted when Bobby did. He shifted his grip so his brother's lolling head rested on his chest instead of between his shoulders.

"S…sucks." Dean managed in a breathy voice as he was manhandled back to the car. He was pissed; not just at Ninurta for biting him but at himself for being too damn slow to get out of the way. Sam and Bobby were distracted carrying him, their guns forgotten. If the creature came back it would get them all and be his fault.

"Easy, Dean." Sam soothed when his brother's breathing sped up, his face contorted in a grimace of pain. "Easy. Almost there." He fumbled to keep hold of Dean as they neared the car and reach the door handle at the same time. Finally, he got it open and then stared at the seat. "Uh…"

"Get in and slide across with him." Bobby suggested. "You pull, I'll push. He don't weigh that much." He saw Dean's eyes meet his in wounded pride and Bobby grinned to try and lighten the mood. "Well Sam IS bigger."

"B…bite me…Bobby." Dean growled.

Sam chuckled and let Dean's ire give him some small measure of relief. He sat on the edge of the seat and slowly pushed back with his legs, bringing Dean with him until his back was pressed against the opposite door and Dean sitting up against his chest. He reached down and dug through his pocket until he came up with the Impala's keys.

"You drive." Sam told Bobby and handed the keys out to him as Bobby folded Dean's legs onto the seat. "He'll breathe better if he's sitting up, I think."

Bobby nodded and took them. "Keep him conscious if you can." He closed the door gently and then ran back to the plateau in front of the hotel. The can with Ninurta's blood was where he'd left it. Bobby scooped it up and took a last look around for the beast before dashed back to the car.

"Dean?" Sam crossed an arm over his brothers' chest to keep him from sliding down and put his hand on his forehead, holding his head up against his shoulder. "How you doing?" He could feel blood seeping from the wound on the back of Dean's shoulder into his shirts. It was warm and made him tingle with fear for him.

Dean was struggling to stay awake. The numb feeling was pulling at him more and more until even his vision was blurred. "M'here." He managed. Sam's voice was dripping with worry and he couldn't not answer it. It was ingrained in him to take care of Sam, even if he was the one leaking bodily fluids all over the car for a change.

Bobby slid in behind the wheel and spared a look in the rearview mirror as the engine rumbled to life. Dean's face was translucent except for the spots of his own blood riding on the so pale skin. "He's gonna be fine, son." He said, trying to reassure the almost broken look on Sam's face and then he turned his attention to the road.

"Don't go too fast, Bobby." Sam warned. "This thing, it likes to play with the weather. Already forced me off the road once."

"Got it. You just keep our boy awake back there." Bobby kept his speed down though every nerve in his body told him to go as fast as possible. Ten minutes later he was glad he'd listened to Sam when the wind and rain picked up, whipping through the trees and across the road. He kept an iron grip on the wheel and refused to let the car be torn from the road.

Sam talked softly to his brother as they drove, trying to keep his attention. Every so often, Dean would mutter back at him and once even told him to shut up, making him smile. He looked up to see where they were and then tightened his grip on Dean when he felt all the remaining tension suddenly slide out of him. "Dean? Dean!" Sam gave him a shake and got nothing in response. "Dammit. Bobby I think he's going under." Sam palmed the side of Dean's face to turn his head and see his face. "Dean? Come on. Wake up. Dean!"

"It's ok, Sam. We knew this was going to happen." Bobby heard the barely restrained panic in his voice. "Don't lose it on me now."

Sam took a deep breath and adjusted his hold on Dean. "Ok. I know."

The drive back to town and the motel seemed to take forever from Sam's point of view. Dean was dead weight against him and while the blood from his wound had slowed, he was now putting out enough body heat to keep them both warm.

Bobby parked in front of their room and turned to look in the backseat. "I'm gonna get the door open and then we'll get him in."

Sam nodded and waited as Bobby hastily got out and ran through the rain to the room. "Really wish you'd wake up now, Dean." He said softly to the top of his brothers' head. "Could use a little reassurance here."

Bobby came back to the car and carefully opened the door behind Sam. "Figure it'll be easier getting him out this way. Swing your legs out."

Sam carefully pulled his legs around, twisting and pushing and trusted Bobby to not let him land on the pavement with his cargo. He felt Bobby's hands supporting his back at the awkward angle as he managed to get his legs out and levered himself up with Dean's torso. Bobby waited until he'd pulled Dean far enough out and then grabbed his legs. "Got him." He wasn't any happier than Sam with the way Dean looked, nor the feeling of carrying around his boneless body. There were too many heart-breaking memories than involved scenes like this for his peace of mind.

Together they carried Dean inside and Sam insisted they put him on the bed furthest from the door. He wanted to be sure he was between Dean and whatever might come at them while he was like this. Settling Dean took no time at all, pliant as he was. "First aid kit, Bobby." Sam gently tugged the sleeves of Dean's ruined jacket off his arms and then pulled him up until he was leaning against him with his head resting in the crook of his shoulder.

"Good. Keep him like that." Bobby moved around and set the kit on the nightstand. He took out the blunt-nosed scissors and carefully cut apart what was left of the right shoulder of both shirts. "It's not actually that bad." He peeled the blood stiffening fabric away and nodded. "Not meant to kill him; just mark him." He took up the bottle of peroxide and dumped it liberally over the bite wounds. He leaned around to see Dean's face as Sam did, both expectant and both sighed when it elicited little more than a soft moan. "Damn. Didn't think it'd take him under this fast."

"How long will it take to make the antidote?" Sam asked while Bobby finished cleaning the wound and taped a loose bandage over it.

"Couple hours." Bobby patted the bandage in place and stood, helping Sam lay Dean back down on the bed. "I'm gonna go spring Rufus while you put it together."

Sam nodded his understanding; while Dean still had days ahead of him, Rufus had far less. He needed the antidote now. Sam didn't offer to come help Bobby liberate the Hunter. He was unwilling to leave Dean alone in his present state, no matter the circumstance and Bobby didn't ask. He knew better.

"He comes around at all while I'm gone, you tell him we'll fix him up in no time." Bobby dropped a hand on Sam's shoulder and gave it a squeeze before going to the table and the abandoned pile of research he'd left there. "I've got detailed notes on how to do it and everything you need in my bag." He found the papers he was looking for and set them aside then took his bag and headed for the bathroom. "Suit up in case I gotta 'Fed' my way in there."

Sam smirked. "Good idea. They're watching him pretty close." Once the door was closed Sam took up Dean's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Just hold on a little longer, Dean. I'm gonna fix this." He rubbed his other hand across his chest where Ninurta had struck him and gave his insensible brother a lopsided grin. "You should be kicking my ass for not letting Bobby look at this yet, you know. You're slipping, dude. Think I've got some bruised ribs here." Sam waited, hoping that wherever Dean was he would hear and be driven to wake up enough to at least glare at him. He didn't. Sam sighed sadly, set his hand back down and went to the table to read over Bobby's notes with determination.

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Bobby didn't bother with the front desk. He followed Sam and Dean's footsteps and snuck into the closed wing, grinning at the complete lack of security there even during the day. He expected to have to dodge construction workers but found none and then rolled his eyes at himself. It was a Saturday. Unlike him they were all home tucked up warm with a damn whiskey.

He peeked out into the hall, satisfied he was alone in the wing and used the elevator to ride up to the next floor. He did his best to temporarily put Dean out of his mind; he couldn't afford to be distracted while trying to liberate Rufus from the hospital without being caught. He was sure the local authorities wouldn't appreciate having their only living victim of an unknown attacker go missing.

Bobby stepped out of the disused wing and strode down the hall as though he belonged there. Rather than go straight for Rufus, he instead kept his eyes open on each door as he went and smiled when he found what he wanted; a door marked 'staff'. Bobby slipped inside and a few minutes later emerged in a white lab coat, a stethoscope perched around his neck and a badge one of the Doctors had absently left behind. He flipped it backwards so the picture wasn't visible and resumed his confident stride, nodding to nurses as he passed with a smile.

"Show you boys how it's done." Bobby muttered with a smirk as he found Rufus' door and went inside. His friend was alone thankfully and Bobby went to stand beside the bed, grim-faced. "You dumb son of a bitch." He said softly as he looked down at Rufus' wan face. He'd lost pounds in the last two days and his dark skin felt like paper as Bobby took his arm to remove the IV line there. With luck, in an hour or so, Rufus would no longer need the intra-venous help and be able to feed himself. If not, well, an IV wasn't going to save his life.

"Alright, you old coot. Hope you aint been eatin' junk food since the last time I had to do this." Bobby went to the corner of the room and the wheelchair conveniently left there, pulling it over to the bed. He tugged the sheet off his friend and bent over him. He muscled Rufus' up so he was sitting and then carefully tipped the man over his shoulder. "Holy…crap." Bobby grunted under the weight and turned slowly until he could angle him down into the wheelchair.

Rufus was boneless and quickly began to slide out of the seat. "Dammit." Bobby stopped him with a hand on his chest and looked around the room. "Ok." He reached back to the bed and yanked the sheet the rest of the way off. He twisted it and looped it around Rufus' chest, tying it off to hold him in place and stood with a stretch to survey his handiwork. He rubbed a hand into his aching back. "The things I do for you."

He stripped the other sheet off the bed and draped it over Rufus up to his shoulders to hide the binding holding him up. "Now, let's smile and see if we can't wheel your happy ass outta here before someone notices. Bobby pushed him to the door and checked the hall before wheeling him out. He was incredibly disturbed by a silent, unmoving Rufus. He wasn't meant to be this way. He should have been cussing, hurling insults and railing at being wheeled around like an invalid. "Get you back to your cheerful self in no time." Bobby said softly to him and nodded easily at a passing nurse. He picked up the pace once she was past and headed for the disused wing again and hoped Sam would have the antidote ready when they arrived.

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_To Be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

_**CHAPTER 7** _

Sam stood back from the table and stretched the kink out of his back from hunching over it so long. The antidote was finished. He grimaced as Dean's dried blood cracked and flaked from his shirt, noticing it for the first time since returning. "Yech." Sam pulled both shirts over his head and went to his duffel. He pulled out a fresh t-shirt and slipped it on before going to sit beside his brother.

"Hey, Dean." Sam brushed a hand over his forehead and frowned. "You're running a fever dude. Not cool." Sam went quickly into the bathroom and wet a towel down with cool water and took it back. He laid it across Dean's brow. "Antidote's finished. Bobby should be back soon with Rufus and we'll get you fixed up." He rested a hand on Dean's shoulder and didn't care if his brother was still alert in there somewhere; he needed the tactile comfort. Every moment Dean remained in the coma drove the fear deeper into him. If asked, he'd blame the trembling of his hands on too much coffee rather than the sense of impending loss he couldn't seem to battle away.

"This monster is not getting you, Dean." Sam said fiercely. He was tempted to give Dean the antidote now but the saner voice in the back of his head told him to wait for Bobby; to let the older Hunter check his work and make sure it wasn't lethal. Sam sneezed explosively and wrapped a hand around his aching head, his arm around the nagging pain in his chest and then looked down at his brother and smirked.

"Blew a booger on your shirt, Dean." Sam said through a congested voice. The cold or flu he had caught had yet to leave him. "Gonna leave it there too unless you wake up." Sam studied his face for any sign of wakefulness. "Dammit, Dean. Please." He whispered. He heard the rumble of Bobby's truck outside and forced himself to straighten and let go of his ribs. He had more important things to worry about than a stupid cold and bruised rib. He stood as Bobby opened the room door.

"Sam. Come help me lug this dead weight in here?" Bobby smiled and glanced to the bed. "He wake up?"

Sam shook his head and followed Bobby outside. "No change. He didn't even twitch."

"Gonne be fine, son." Bobby clapped a hand to the younger Winchester's shoulder and pulled open the door of his truck.

"Did you have any trouble getting him out?" Sam took Rufus' shoulders and rolled him out, supporting him while Bobby took his legs and swallowed the groan as the added weight pulled uncomfortably across his chest.

"Naw. Friggin country yokels. Had no clue." Bobby grinned and followed as Sam backed into the room and soon had Rufus lain out on the other bed.

"Geez." Sam shook his head at the sad state of the older Hunter. "I think he's lost more weight since we saw him."

"Alright. Let's see your handiwork." Bobby went to the table and left Sam to watch over their charges while he checked the antidote. "You followed all the instructions?" He looked over his shoulder and chuckled at the disgusted look on Sam's face. "Of course you did. Stupid question." He trusted Sam's ability almost as well as his own and wasted no time pouring the viscous liquid out in two doses in the motel cups. He turned and handed one to Sam. "Now, this recipe is two thousand years or more outta date, Sam. I don't know what this is gonna do."

Sam nodded. "It might kill them." He took the cup and went to sit beside Dean. "They'll die anyway, Bobby. What choice do we have?"

"None." Bobby carefully tilted Rufus' head back, opening his mouth while Sam did the same with his brother. "Bottom's up."

Sam tipped the carefully, pouring the dark potion in. He dropped the cup and closed Dean's mouth, pinching his nose shut to encourage him to swallow. He watched and a moment later saw Dean's throat work and then everything went sideways. Dean spasmed. "Bobby?"

"I know." Bobby put his hands on Rufus' shoulder as he lurched and suddenly Rufus' knee slammed into Bobby's back, tipping him forward and knocking his head into the wall. "Balls!"

Dean lunged up from the bed as one arm swung out. His fist caught Sam in the eye and knocked him from the bed. Sam hit the floor with a pained grunt seeing stars. "Shit!"

"Hold him down!" Bobby shouted and cringed as both men screamed; loud, long and guttural.

Sam scrambled back to the bed at the sound of his brother's voice in such distress. Dean was never supposed to sound like that. He pinned his brother to the bed, catching his flailing arms. "Dean! Dean, stop!"

"I don't think this is them!" Bobby grunted with the effort of keeping Rufus still. "It's Ninurta. He's using the link with them."

Proving that the underworld Demon had some measure of control, Dean's body wormed free of Sam's grasp and slammed a hand into his throat, wrapping around and squeezed tightly.

"Guh…Dean." Sam scrabbled at the powerful fingers and stared down as his airway was closed off. Dean's eyes had yet to open and Sam knew he was still unconscious; still in the grip of the coma. He managed to knock Dean's hand free and growled. Sam reared back, avoiding another powerful blow and instead pulled Dean up and slid in behind him. He wrapped his arms around Dean, pinning his brother's arms to his sides and pulled him back to control him. "Bobby? You ok?" Sam asked and looked over now he had room to breathe.

"Just…peachy." Bobby was practically sitting on Rufus' chest at that point and had both the man's hands in a vice grip as he struggled and screamed.

Sam squeezed Dean more firmly as the struggle continued and he screamed again. "Dean. Stop. It's ok. Wake up now. You gotta wake up, Dean." Each agonized shout seared across his soul. His brother's head whipped back, trying to hit him and Sam buried his face in the back of Dean's neck to protect himself. "How long can this last?"

"How the hell…should I…dammit Rufus…know?" Bobby took another knee to the back and did his best to keep his friend from hurting himself or him.

Sam held on as Dean thrashed and shouted and then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped. Dean went limp in his grasp. "Dean? Dean!" Sam shifted him, letting Dean's head fall into the crook of his elbow and heard Bobby yelling Rufus' name along with him.

Dean floated slowly up as the burning that had assaulted him suddenly cooled. He heard his brother's voice and followed the sound, unable to resist the fear he heard there. The ingrained need to protect Sam forced him awake when all he wanted to do was sleep. "S'mmy?"

"Ah god." Sam let his head drop into Dean's hair in abject relief at the sound of Dean's voice slurring his name. He pulled his head back and watched his eyes flutter open. "Hey, Dean."

Dean looked up and found Sam's worried, Hazel eyes peering closely down at him. It took him a moment to realize he was being held against his little brother's chest and practically in his lap. He groaned. "Dude." Dean cleared his throat and rolled his eyes lazily. "Such a g…girl."

Sam laughed softly; his sore throat tight with relief. "You fought us. We had to hold you down to let the antidote work."

Dean raised his head minutely and saw Bobby on the other bed beside Rufus. "Hey…Rufus." Dean's voice was hoarse. He smirked as the elder Hunter's eyes rolled to meet his. "You look…like crap."

Rufus found enough energy to raise one hand and flip Dean off. "Jackass." Bobby chuckled and stood from the bed as Rufus' eyes came back around to him. "Bobby. What in hell…you doin' here?"

"Savin' your sorry ass, obviously." Bobby scowled down at him.

"Dean? You ok?" Sam frowned as Dean's eyes fluttered again and then closed. His entire body relaxed all at once into Sam's arms. "Dean?"

Bobby rushed to the bed and clapped a hand to Dean's throat. He smiled and squeezed Sam's shoulder comfortingly. "He's alright, son. Just out for a while. Let him sleep it off." He looked over to see Rufus had passed out as well. "Wore themselves out."

Sam nodded, swallowed and then sneezed. "Dammit." He groaned. He gently eased out from behind his brother and laid him back in the bed. The sneeze had tightened his chest and made him want to gasp. He fought the urge. Bobby didn't need three bodies to take care of.

"You alright?" Bobby looked Sam over carefully and began to wonder if he'd missed something. He still had twinges of distrust sometimes when he looked at Sam and it was an effort on his part to remember that the pale kid sneezing his head off and the one who'd almost cut his heart out were two different people.

"Just this stupid cold." Sam smirked. "You want, I can cough on you."

Bobby cuffed the back of his head. "Smart-ass." He flipped his ball cap up with one hand and scrubbed the other through his disorderly hair before settling it back. "I'm gonna go stock us up for the invalids. Dean probably won't be down long but Rufus is gonna sidelined a few days."

Sam chuckled. "He's gonna be pissed."

"Well he can stuff it." Bobby scooped his truck keys off the table and went for the door muttering about ungrateful idiots with no sense.

Sam gently tugged the blanket out from under his brother and covered him with it. He turned and did the same for Rufus, smirking at the medical gown. Then he took a minute to just lean over, hands on the nightstand to support himself and tried to give himself room for a deep breath. "Shit." He said softly and scrubbed a hand over his face. The fever was attempting to make a comeback if the warmth of his face was anything to go by and he decided he needed a shower. "Don't go anywhere." He said softly to both men with a smile and went into the bathroom. He left the door cracked so he would hear if either of them woke and called.

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Dean groaned his way back to wakefulness. He blinked tired eyes open and was relieved to find himself not wrapped up in his brother's arms like a friggin infant anymore. He did not do helpless well. "Sammy?" He called and then registered the sound of the shower running. He laid his head back and considered going back to sleep but his bladder chose that moment to remind him he hadn't done something for a while. "Dammit."

Dean took his time sitting up and winced as the wound on the back of his shoulder pulled. He hunched on the side of the bed and looked over to the other. Rufus still slept soundly with a sheet pulled up to his neck. Dean cleared his throat, wondering why it was sore and had a vague memory of screaming. He shook his head and staggered to his feet. It took him a moment to steady himself and then he wove carefully across the room to the bathroom as the shower cut off. He braced his hand on the frame for a moment, giving his brother time a minute and then nudged the cracked door with his foot.

"Hey, Sam. Need the john out here, dude." Dean said and then reared back as the door jerked open on a wet little brother, towel wrapped around his hips and eyes wide in surprise.

"Dean!" Sam stared and then grinned. "Nice to see you vertical for a change."

"Whatever, I gotta piss." Dean waved a hand to move him from the door and started in. He stopped as Sam brushed past him and darted a hand out to grab Sam's arm, stopping him. "What the hell, Sammy?" He stared at Sam's chest. A wide, purpling bruise rode across his ribs. Dean dragged his eyes up and sucked in a breath. He reached out and brushed fingers over the ring of bruising on his brother's neck. It had the distinct impression of a handprint. "Who the hell did this and can I kill them?" He growled.

"Huh?" Sam frowned. He turned back into the bathroom to look in the mirror. "Shit." He hadn't even noticed. He turned back to look at Dean and sighed. "Dude, it's nothing. I'm fine."

"Bullshit." Dean pulled him out of the bathroom. "Put some pants on while I take care of business. No shirt. You hear me, Sam? Bobby looked at that yet?" He gestured to Sam's ribs and the guilty look on his face told him Sam had been hiding it. He shook his head and slapped the bathroom door shut behind him.

"Well, hell." Sam groaned. The shower had lessened some of the ache from his bruised ribs but strengthened the congestion steadily taking over his breathing and now he was in for it with Dean. "Day gets better and better." He said ruefully and went to his duffel. By the time Dean came out of the bathroom Sam had his jeans on and was pulling a t-shirt over his head.

"Nuh uh." Dean grabbed the shirt and yanked it away. "Sit dammit."

Sam debated arguing but Dean looked so pale still he swallowed the argument and dropped to the side of the bed. "Fine. But I'm ok."

"Who throttled you?" Dean sat beside him. "Arm up. I don't remember the god-monster getting hold of you." He ran his hands over the bruising on his brother's chest feeling for anything wrong, any give where it shouldn't be and grimaced each time Sam winced. "Sorry, buddy." He pressed a little harder on the right side where the bruising was deepest.

"Was…it was you." Sam said finally through clenched teeth and closed his eyes as Dean's ministrations drove his pain level through the roof. "I mean, Ninurta…through you. Crap."

"I did that?" Dean stared anew at the imprint of his hand on Sam's throat and felt a new welling of rage at the creature. "Son of a bitch. I'm sorry, Sammy."

Sam shook his head and opened his eyes again to look earnestly at the guilt-ridden face beside him. "It wasn't your fault, Dean. You were in a coma for crying out loud. Ninurta was driving the bus. Same thing happened to Rufus. I'm pretty sure Bobby's got some new bruises."

"This from me too?" Dean asked, pointing to his chest.

"No. The creature." Sam grimaced when Dean reached into the nearby medical kit and came up with a bandage. "I had to tackle it to get it off you and give Bobby time to get its blood."

"You tackled it?" Dean's voice rose and he glared at him. "Are you stupid? I mean seriously, Sam. What the hell were you thinking? What happened to the plan?"

"What happened was that thing trying to tear a piece out of you!" Sam retorted angrily and prepared for another fruitless attempt to remind Dean that protection went both ways.

"Anytime you ladies wanna break it up." Rufus' weary voice came from the other bed and startled them both into silence.

Sam dissolved into a coughing fit. The effort of yelling at his brother had filled his throat with phlegm. "Sorry….Rufus." He gasped and groaned as Dean thumped him not so helpfully on the back. "Dude…stop. Ow."

"Serves you right." Dean grumbled. "How you feeling, Rufus?" He asked but his eyes never left his distressed little brother.

"Like I been chewed up and spit out wet by Godzilla." Rufus groaned and pushed himself up slowly until he was sitting.

"Gojira." Sam corrected absently and grinned when his brother snorted in disgust.

"Geek." Dean muttered. "Arms up, dumbass." He unraveled the beginning of the bandage and glared at Sam until he complied wordlessly. "Nothing's broken. Might be cracked though. No screwin' around, Sammy. Pain gets worse you tell me." Again, Sam nodded and said nothing. Dean took it as a win.

"I see you met my friend." Rufus nodded at the bruising across Sam's chest. He gave Dean a long look and spotted the blood stained bandage on the back of his shoulder. "Damn. Ugly take a bite out of you too?"

Dean nodded as he wrapped the bandage tightly around Sam's chest. "Had to get some of its blood to save you." He snorted. "And me apparently. Bobby…hey, where is he?"

"Went to…to get food." Sam sucked in a breath. "Too tight, Dean."

"Has to be tight, dufus." Dean cuffed the back of his head and tucked the end of the bandage in neatly. He pulled the first aid kit over and rummaged through, pulling out a bottle of Tylenol. "Here, before that fever takes over again."

Sam rolled his eyes and took the bottle. "Mother hen." Inwardly, it warmed him to have Dean fussing and pissed when he had come so close to being…Sam couldn't finish the thought as he went to the bathroom to take the pills. He wouldn't allow himself. It had been too close. He glanced up as he heard a peel of thunder rumble and then the steady white noise of pounding rain on the motel's roof. He swallowed the pills and went back out. "Sounds like Ninurta's a little pissed."

Dean was at the window looking out on the torrential downpour. The rain was so heavy it obscured the other side of the street. Another roll of thunder rattled the window in its frame. "What'd you do to piss him off?" Dean looked back with a smirk. "You talked to him, didn't you?"

"Bite me, Dean." Sam growled. "Might have something to do with the knife I left buried under his arm." He gave a smug smile to the look of surprise on his brother's face.

"Not bad, Sammy." Dean smiled.

"Someone wanna tell me what the hell Ninurta is?" Rufus rubbed a hand over his face and did his best to ignore how tired he was. "And tell me what damn day it is?"

Dean snorted a laugh. "You're up, Sam." He let the curtain fall and tossed his brother's t-shirt to him before looking at Rufus. "Bobby's gonna rip you a new one by the way."

"What the hell for?" Rufus growled up at him. "Aint my fault that thing's fast like a freak."

"Not doing research, not calling him." Dean shrugged. "Take your pick."

Sam grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and took one to Rufus. He handed the other to Dean. "It's a Sumerian underworld demon." He said and pulled his shirt on with a grimace. He quickly outlined everything they knew about Ninurta. When he was done Rufus rolled his eyes and slapped a hand over his face.

"I missed it. The damn rain." Rufus groaned and slipped further down in the bed. "Didn't even think the rain was part of it. Damn."

"You should get some more sleep." Sam told him kindly. "You've been in a coma for a couple days."

"Sleep when I'm dead." Rufus said, voice heavy with bad temper. The door opened suddenly and sopping Bobby stepped into the room with a bag in each arm. Rufus craned his head to look up at his old friend. "Shut it, Bobby."

"Oh goodie. The glee club's awake. All cheerful are we?" Bobby dead-panned and kicked the door shut behind him. He carried the bags to the table and set them down. "Got food here for ya." He gave Dean a smile and nodded. "You look better."

"Thanks Bobby." Dean said and the look he gave Bobby said for more than just the food. He grabbed Sam's elbow then as he passed. "But next time jeopardy boy here gets knocked around and tells you he's fine, remember he's full of crap."

"Dean. Hey!" Sam groaned and slapped at him when he grabbed the hem of Sam's shirt and yanked it up to reveal the bandages.

"Balls!" Bobby left the food and came over.

Sam found himself the center of some very embarrassing attention and rolled his eyes. He threw his hands up in the air and looked over at Rufus. "You can stop grinning or I can dump you back up with Ninurta." He said testily.

Rufus chuckled and wedged himself back down in the bed. "Better than daytime soaps around here."

"Bite me." Sam tossed back and grabbed his shirt, yanking it down. "Are you done yet?"

Bobby cuffed the back of Sam's head and glared at him. "Next time I ask if you're ok, you tell me." He turned back to Rufus, glare still in place. "And you, ya stupid son of a…what the hell kinda research you call this? You couldn't call me? I sent these boys up here blind cause you're too damn stupid stubborn to pick up a phone!" He stalked to the bed to stand over him. "You woulda died if I hadn't caught wind of this job, you get that?"

"Don't you start with me, Singer!" Rufus yelled and pushed himself back up. He didn't want to be flat on his back while Bobby shouted at him. "I been doin' this a lot longer than you. I know what I'm doing. Sure as hell don't need you holdin' my hand on a job like a little girl!"

"Oh yeah, you're a real professional, Rufus." Bobby waved a hand at his current state. "Had it all under control did ya?"

Dean and Sam both backed away from the men as they shouted it out, exchanging amused looks. "Food?" Dean asked softly.

Sam smirked and nodded, following him to the table. "Mom and Dad are fighting dude."

"I heard that you little shit." Bobby said suddenly. Sam hunched and turned, raising his hands in surrender with a grin. "Why don't you do something useful. Go get the shotguns and clean em. They're water-logged from all this damn rain."

"That'll teach ya." Dean laughed softly and dug into the bag. He pulled out a cheeseburger and grinned. "Oh yeah baby."

Sam shook his head and went for the door. He stepped warily around Bobby, smirking. "Sorry, Bobby."

"Show some respect for your elders, boy." Rufus glared up at him.

"Oh man." Sam chuckled and opened the door. The rain was pouring even harder. The other side of the parking lot was hidden in a wet fog. The air felt charged and he looked down to watch the hairs on his arms standing up. Sam looked up and barely had time to register Bobby beside him before the world exploded in light and sound.

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_To Be Continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

_**CHAPTER 8** _

Dean sat with his burger and took another bite, glancing over as Sam opened the door onto the torrential downpour and smirked; better him getting soaked again than Dean. He took a deep sniff of the burger, enjoying the smell of roasted meat and frowned. There was another scent over the meat, almost like the smell of ozone in a storm. He looked back to the door as Bobby stepped up beside his brother and saw the flash. It whited out his vision a moment before a wall of air hit him and through him from his chair to the floor. He felt all the hair on his body suddenly stand on end. The after image of a bolt of lightning was momentarily burned behind his eyes.

"Sam?" Dean groaned and pushed himself up, blinking furiously to try and clear his vision. He rubbed his hands through his hair trying to soothe the odd, itchy sensation of it standing up. "Sammy!" The light finally cleared from his sight and he froze for a moment in panic. The door still stood open. Beyond it, the corner of Bobby's truck smoked in the rain. What finally made him break the paralysis and move was the sight of Bobby and his brother lying in the doorway; unmoving as the rain blew in on them.

Sam lay on the floor in a daze. He knew he was on the floor because he was looking at the ceiling. His eyes followed the curve of a long, snaking water stain and a part of his mind told him he should be paying attention. He frowned, unsure what he was supposed to be paying attention too. He felt numb and vaguely…odd. His thoughts scattered like leaves on the wind and he stared at the water stain again. He wondered suddenly if he was breathing. He couldn't tell and that should frighten him, he knew but he just couldn't muster the will to be scared. His brother's face swam into view. Dean's mouth was moving but Sam could hear nothing beyond the ringing in his ears. He tried to follow Dean as he moved, to lift his head, but his body wouldn't cooperate. He went back to watching the stain on the ceiling.

"His heart's not beating!" Dean yelled and leaned over his brother. "Sam? Sam! Dammit." Sam's eyes were open and Dean thought they had focused on him for just a moment.

"It's the electrical shock from the lightning. Must have shocked his heart outta rhythm." Rufus slid from the bed to the floor beside Bobby and slapped a hand on his chest. "His is still beatin'. Too damn stubborn to stop. Out cold though."

Dean slapped Sam's cheek and got no response. "Shit!" He fisted his hands and punched Sam's chest above his heart. "Come on, dammit." He hit him again, waited and then a third time. Sam blinked and then wheezed in a great lungful of air, loud and long. "Hey, hey, hey!" Dean pulled him up and supported him as he gasped and coughed with his eyes rolling wildly in his head. "Easy, buddy." Relief made him giddy. He rubbed Sam's back, encouraging him to breathe.

Sam would have folded over to the floor if not for Dean's arm across his chest holding him up. He still couldn't hear anything Dean was saying past the ringing in his ears and the sound of his own pounding heart; a sound he hadn't noticed was missing until moments before. His chest ached and exhaustion pulled at him. "Dean."

"Right here, buddy." Dean patted his back and looked over as Bobby jerked to consciousness beside them under Rufus' watchful eye.

"What the hell?" Bobby gasped and let Rufus pull him up so he was sitting. He stared out the open door to his truck and the smoke still curling from the seared metal of the hood. "Dammit, I like that truck."

"Be happy it hit that piece of junk instead of you." Rufus patted his back awkwardly. "Come to think of it. Mighta made you prettier."

"Get off." Bobby growled. "Pain in my ass." He turned and got a look at Sam. "Balls! He ok?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded. "Think so." He looked down with concern. "Sammy?"

"That…sucked…the first time." Sam said between breaths, remembering their brush with a wishing well in Cascade and the bolt of lightning that had, however briefly, killed him.

"Huh?" Dean pulled him upright a little, trying to see his face.

"Nothing." Sam took some of his own weight and gave Bobby a small smile. "I'm ok now."

"Anyone think this is a coincidence?" Bobby pulled himself to his feet and then helped Rufus back up into the bed. "Sam leaves some hardware in big ugly and then Mother Nature tries to flash fry him?"

"You think the demon did this?" Dean waved out toward Bobby's truck. "We need to invest in rubber soled shoes or something then." He started pulling Sam clear of the door, suddenly wary of another bolt coming for him.

"The rain's slowing." Sam observed and grabbed Dean's arm to try and get up. "Thunder stopped too." He shook his head, trying to clear the last of the ringing from his ears. "He must have spent a lot of energy to do that."

"So he probably can't do it again right away is what you're saying." Bobby nodded and watched the rain lessen back to the steady drizzle it had been that morning. "Think you're right."

"Comforting." Dean righted a chair with one arm and then dragged Sam up into it. He knelt in front of him for a better look. "How you doing?" He checked for injuries but found none, then he noticed Sam's hair and his mouth quirked in a smile that quickly became a grin and then he was laughing.

"What?" Sam watched Dean dissolve into laughter and looked up when Bobby and Rufus both began to laugh as well. "What's so funny?"

"Dude." Dean wiped his eyes and scrubbed a hand over his face. "You look like...you stuck your finger in a light socket. Your hair…"

Sam reached up to his head and felt the halo of hair standing out in all directions and groaned. "That's just perfect."

Bobby covered his eyes for a moment to stifle the urge to laugh harder. "That's why I wear a hat." He adjusted his self-consciously, sure that his hair wouldn't look much better than Sam's under the cap.

Sam groaned and then wheezed another breath in and out. His chest felt tight and not just from the bandage holding his bruised ribs. The congestion was worse and he sighed. "Dammit." He said softly.

"Sam?" Dean leaned in and heard the labored breathing. He put a hand to the side of his brother's neck and frowned. "Still?"

Sam nodded and brushed a hand over his chest. "Think we gotta…take the bandage off."

"Shit." Dean said with feeling.

"What?" Bobby came to stand beside them after closing the room door. "Ribs bugging him?"

"A cold and wrapped ribs, Bobby." Dean said by way of explanation and looked up to see dawning understanding on their adoptive father's face.

"Pneumonia. Balls." Bobby shook his head. "Let's get the wrap off him then. Maybe we can head it off."

"Fine." Sam sat up as straight as he could and lifted his shirt for his brother. "I'll be fine."

"Yeah, you will be." Dean un-tucked the end of the bandage and started unwinding it. They couldn't leave Sam's chest wrapped with how congested he was or pneumonia would show up to claim him. It meant his little brother was going to have to grin and bear it through bruised ribs but it was better than the alternative.

"We should…go after Ninurta…now." Sam said haltingly as Dean finally un-wrapped the last of the bandage and the support on his bruised chest went away. "While he's vulnerable."

Dean scowled and knew he was right. "Bobby and I…"

Sam punched his shoulder. "Don't even finish that sentence. I'm going." He glared at his big brother. "It's a cough and a couple bruised ribs. We've hunted with worse and you know it."

"I'm comin' too." Rufus said from the bed.

Bobby snorted and turned to see his friend trying to lever himself up. "Right." Bobby walked over to stand beside him. "Tell you what." He reached down and planted a fist in the center of Rufus' chest, pushing him back down in the bed. "You get out from under this and you can come."

Rufus growled up at him angrily and struggled to move the heavy hand holding him down. He cursed but it was at his own weakness more than Bobby. His body felt rubbery and wouldn't obey his orders as he ended up lying back and panting with effort; Bobby's hand still firmly planted on his chest. "You're a jackass, Singer, you know that?"

"Yeah, and I'm right." Bobby nodded, satisfied and straightened. "You're stayin' here."

"Do we even know how to kill this thing?" Dean stood and decided to not pick a fight with Sam over this. He was right. They'd both worked with worse injuries. He needed to curb his knee-jerk reaction to wrap Sam up and let him do his thing but he couldn't help it if he was more over-protective than normal since finally getting his brother back all the way. Who could blame him? Not Sam if the soft look of gratitude and understanding on his stupid face was anything to go by. Dean rolled his eyes and proceeded to ignore him.

"Pierce the heart, salt and burn." Bobby shrugged. "Heart has to be burned separate from the body and…" He went to the pile of his research. "There's an incantation that has to be spoken over it. We're not killin' him mind you." He found what he wanted and smiled at the surprised look on Dean's face. "If anyone ever found a way to kill him it's never been written down. We're banishing him back to the Underworld." He handed the papers to Sam to read. "Kinda like the Sumerian version of an exorcism."

"Yeesh." Sam sounded out some of the words in his head. "This is worse than Latin."

"Tongue-twister, huh?" Dean looked over his shoulder and smirked. "Better you than me, geek-boy."

Sam delivered a soft elbow to Dean's stomach behind him, smiling at the grunt. "You get to wrestle big ugly this time, preferably without getting bitten again."

Dean rubbed his stomach and slapped the back of his brother's head in retaliation. "Alright. Can we go gank this thing before he recharges?" He didn't want all of them up at the hotel dodging lightning bolts.

Rufus slapped the bed, feeling useless. "Gimme a damn gun and prop me up somewhere. I can do that."

"No can do, Rufus." Bobby said but not unkindly. He knew how he would feel in his position. "Can't watch our own backs…"

"If you're busy standin' over mine. I know dammit." Rufus growled and slid back down in the bed, weak. "Don't mean I have to like it. Go kill the damn thing already." He watched the three of them gear up, throwing on coats, Sam tucking the incantation safely into a plastic baggie and into his jacket and sighed as they headed for the door. "And me bring me back a damn burger or something."

Bobby chuckled and turned back. He rescued the bag he'd brought from the floor and dumped it in Rufus' lap. "Ask and ye shall receive, dumb-ass." He left to Rufus' growled threat with a smile.

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"Ok. No screwing around with the damn ghosts this time." Dean said definitively as he, Sam and Bobby approached the entrance of the hotel. "Go down, find big ugly and gank it."

"That's the plan." Sam rubbed a hand over his chest as they walked and resisted the urge to start coughing. The rain was still falling but had yet to strengthen again and he was using it as a guide for how much strength Ninurta had regained. "If he's in there."

"He'll be there." Dean was sure they would find the old god in the spa room. It was the only place in the hotel they had seen that showed signs of constant activity. "If I was hiding out up here, that's where I'd pitch my tent."

"Dude. Imagery." Sam groaned and earned a lascivious smirk from his brother.

"Prude." Dean tossed back.

"Knock it off, idjits." Bobby, unlike his boys, was focused on their surroundings. He did not want a repeat of watching Dean being chewed on. He wasn't sure how many more times his heart could take the sight of Dean bloodied and on the ground. They climbed carefully over the rubble once more and stride into the entry hall. It looked as it had the last time they'd been there; pillar on its side, desk upended and thanks to the otherworldly wind there were papers and bits of fabric from drop cloths strewn everywhere like bulky snow.

"Think he's still nursing his wounds?" Dean asked softly as he headed across the floor for the hallway where they'd been attacked earlier.

Sam nodded. "I left my knife in a fairly inconvenient place, yeah." He smiled when Dean grinned back at him.

"That's my boy." Dean pulled the EMF from his pocket and gave it a quick glance. It remained silent. "Looks like our luck is holding coming up here in the day…such as it is."

"Our luck or the day?" Bobby asked with a smirk and Dean shrugged as if to say 'take your pick'.

There was a sudden, low growl that filtered through the still, damp air and all three men stopped in their tracks; instantly on the alert. "You hear that?" Bobby asked and got a nod from each. "Guess it was too much to hope for he'd just wait tamely for us downstairs."

Sam looked back at him and his eyes widened. "Bobby!" Ninurta stood framed in the wide doors just for a moment and then he lunged in. Sam sprinted the few steps between them and threw himself at Bobby, knocking him out of the way.

Sam grunted with the impact of the creature. He felt a large, clawed hand grasp into the front of his jacket and wrapped his hands around the furred arm as the Sumerian Demon dragged him along the floor.

"Sam!" Dean shouted and fired a round into the creature's back. It flinched and screamed but didn't stop. He could nothing but watch and keep shooting as Ninurta pulled Sam at a run and the two of them disappeared down the open elevator shaft. "Sammy!" He heard his brother shout in pain with a loud thump and then nothing.

"Balls!" Bobby scrambled to his feet and ran to the shaft with Dean. "Why the hell'd he do that?" He was overcome with guilt. He hadn't been watching behind them. If he had, he would have seen the thing coming and Sam wouldn't have had to put himself in harms' way for his sake. He swallowed back the rising fear for Sam. He needed a cool head to get his kid back…and he would. His other kid had one foot hanging out over air, ready to jump down after his brother. Breaking his own neck wasn't going to do Sam any good. "Alright. Ok, we know where they're going. Come on, Dean. Come on!" He took the younger man's arm and physically hauled him away from the shaft. "Dean!"

"Yeah. I'm good." Dean hefted his gun and led the way back to the hall, ignoring the opening whine of the meter in his hand. He shoved it in his pocket. "Stay the hell off my ass, Casper! I do not have time to screw with you!" He shouted into the emptiness and surprisingly, the meter went silent.

"Smart ghost." Bobby mumbled as they sped along the hall. He followed closely behind Dean and dug out his flashlight as they reached the stairs. "Guess Sam really pissed him off with that knife."

"Well now he's really pissed _me_ off." Dean said in a low, gravelly voice. If the god had been there to hear it, he might well have slunk back to the underworld on his own rather than face the cold rage of Dean Winchester. He stomped down the stairs, crushing ivy beneath his boots. When they reached the bottom, both men heard Ninurta scream in what sounded distinctly like anger. Dean smiled darkly. "Sounds like Sam's pissin' him off."

"That's our boy." Bobby said and broke into a run along with Dean down a dusty corridor, following the sounds of an angry god.

Dean held on to the sounds like a lifeline; so long as the creature was screaming its frustration, Sam had to be alive and at least well enough to piss it off. He skidded to a stop outside the Spa doors and kicked them in as he heard his brother's voice raised in sudden pain.

"Sam!" Dean strode in with his gun ready. Ninurta was across the chamber near the indoor creek and turned from a cluster of dead trees with a snarl. "Come on, ugly." He stood shoulder to shoulder with Bobby as the creature charged them with a scream. The sound of gunfire was echoed in the chamber, making their ears ring. Dean saw bursts of blood appear on Ninurta's chest as their bullets found their mark but it didn't slow.

"Uh oh." Bobby groaned and then grunted as the creature slammed into both of them. He was tossed back through the swinging doors into the hall and slid to a stop in a daze against the wall.

Dean felt himself picked up and thrown. He had a dizzying view of the floor, ceiling and piercing red eyes before he landed with a solid thwack and the air was driven from his lungs in a whoosh. He fought to take a breath and raised a shaking hand to fire again as Ninurta stalked across the room to stand over him and grin.

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_To Be Continued…_


	9. Chapter 9

_**CHAPTER 9** _

Dean looked up and emptied his clip into Ninurta's chest. It screamed. It threw its head back and howled but maddeningly it did not die. It turned its feral gaze back to the eldest Winchester with blood in its eyes and leaned down with jaws wide. Dean watched and used the moment of life he had left to hope Bobby would save his brother.

Ninurta jerked and stumbled to a knee over Dean with another scream as gunshots rang out in the room. "What the hell?" Dean didn't wait. He scrambled out from under the thing and got to his knees then looked up in shock; his brother had come from somewhere and thrown himself on the creature's back. "Sammy! What the hell are you doing?"

"Saving your ass…again!" Sam shouted and grimaced with the effort of holding on to Ninurta. "Knife!"

"What?" Dean frowned and Sam nodded his head briefly down.

"My knife!"

"Oh! Right!" Dean remembered and looked under Ninurta's right shoulder. Sure enough, the hilt of Sam's knife protruded from the furred hide. He lunged under the swinging arm and wrapped a hand around it. The sound of a shotgun blast in his ear made him flinch. Dean spared a glance and saw Bobby had picked himself up and fired a rock salt round into the things face.

"Hurry the hell up!" Bobby yelled at them wiped irritably at the blood on the side of his face. He was beyond relieved to see Sam alive but plastered to Ninurta's back wasn't going to keep him that way for long.

"Working…on it!" Dean finally managed to tug the knife free. Sam seemed to know. Dean saw his arms come around Ninurta's throat and force its head back, baring its throat and blinding it to Dean.

"Do it, Dean!" Sam caught one wrist in the other to maintain his hold as he felt the thick cords of muscles under him bunch with the effort of removing him.

Dean leaned forward and thrust the blade with all his strength into Ninurta's chest, aiming for its heart. He danced backward as the two, massive clawed arms swept together trying to capture him. "Let it go, Sam!" He shouted and tried to move around to the side so he could see his brother. "Sam!"

Sam heard Dean's shout but couldn't figure out how to let go and not get mauled in the process. He didn't have much of a choice. His congested lungs and bruised ribs were already complaining about the activity and he was destined for unconsciousness soon if he didn't let go. Sam closed his eyes and said a quiet prayer that he wouldn't get eaten and released his grip. He dropped his arms away and let himself fall backwards away from the frantic, howling creature.

"Hey ugly!" Dean yelled to pull Ninurta's attention to him and away from his brother. It worked. The creature turned malevolent red eyes on him and shot forward. Dean jumped backward, out of the way as Bobby fired another round into its face. Ninurta went to his knees with his clawed hands hovering over the blade hilt in his chest. He screamed defiantly and toppled forward across the marble floor.

"Sammy." Dean ran around the creature to his brother and skidded a stop beside him where he lay dripping water. "Hey."

"Hey." Sam lay on his back debating if he wanted to actually get up. At that moment the answer was no so he looked wearily up at his brother. He was sore, exhausted, cold and wet. "Go finish it before it gets back up and eats us. I'm good."

Dean patted his shoulder and stood. "Don't go anywhere." He smirked at the soft huff of laughter from Sam and went to stand beside Bobby. "So, cut out the heart?"

"Yep." Bobby smiled. "Ladies first." He gestured to the creature and steadied his gun. "I'll watch your back."

"Dude." Dean shook his head. "Such a pain in my ass." He knelt by Ninurta and hesitantly took hold of one of its arms, using it to pull the large body over onto its back. Sam's knife stood out like an exclamation and dark blood still welled up around the hilt slowly.

"Watch yourself, Dean." Bobby moved so he had a clear shot at the creature's head.

"Yeah." Dean planted a knee on Ninurta's chest and took a firm grip of the handle. It took him a minute to work the blade free and it slid out grudgingly, squelching all the way. Ninurta's body twitched and Dean froze with the blade poised above its heart. "Bobby?"

Bobby shook his head. "Think you're ok."

Sam made himself roll to his knees with the sound of tension in Dean's voice. He glanced around and decided to get the next part of the process ready. They were going to need a fire for the heart. He staggered to his feet with a hand wrapped around his chest and went to collect dead wood from the spindly trees near the creek.

"Sammy?"

Sam looked around to find Dean watching him and he rolled his eyes, waving a hand at his brother. "Dude. I'm fine. Gank that thing already."

Dean snorted and went back to his work. Cutting through the tough hide of Ninurta's chest was proving to be a chore and the squelching of Sam's sneakers across the floor made a counterpoint to the sickening sounds of the knife in muscle. "Why…are you…wet?"

Sam came back with an arm of branches and deposited them on the floor a few feet away. "Had to…fish my gun…out of the damn creek." He wheezed and smirked.

Bobby shook his head, amused. "Boy, you beat all." He narrowed his eyes in the dim light and went around the body to the younger Winchester. "Sam." He reached out and tugged Sam's hand away from his chest. "Well hell."

"It's nothing, Bobby." Sam assured him. He knew there were five spots of blood on his shirt from Ninurta's claws. "Scratches. I swear."

"Uh huh." Bobby scowled at him, making it clear he didn't believe him.

"What?" Dean stood; knife in one hand and the creature's heart in the other. "You hurt?"

Sam snorted and pointed to the pile of firewood. "How about…you burn that thing before you go all…mama bear on me…again."

"I got him." Bobby clamped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sit already, son." Sam was pale with two spots of fever riding on his cheeks and wheezing like an old man.

"Bobby…" Sam started but the older Hunter just shoved and Sam didn't have the strength to fight the downward motion. He groaned and let Bobby guide him to the floor.

"Damned idjit takin' another swim with a chest cold." Bobby scolded. "Stay there." He waited a moment to make sure Sam was listening and then jogged back out into the hall after the duffel they'd brought with them. He came back and chuckled to find Dean kneeling in front of him with his grizzly trophy in one hand while he tried to get a look at Sam's chest with the other.

"Eww…dude." Sam batted his brother's hand away. "Don't get that on me. Go…play with fire."

Instead of leaving him be, he held the heart up to his brother's face with a grin. "Hungry?"

"Are you five?" Sam asked but couldn't help the smirk.

"Boys." Bobby rolled his eyes and dropped the duffel. He dug out the salt and lighter fluid. "You girls wanna finish this sometime tonight?"

Sam chuckled and dug the incantation out of his jacket pocket. He sighed a grateful breath that the baggie had protected it from the water and carefully drew it out as Bobby got the fire lit and then went to dump salt all over Ninurta's bloody carcass.

"You ready?" Dean looked over at Sam and got a nod. He dropped the heart into the fire and stood back as Sam began reading the ancient Sumerian haltingly, sounding out some of the words as he went.

Bobby set the empty salt can aside and poured lighter fluid on the body, trying to get it from head to toe. His worry level went up a few notches as Sam had to periodically stop and just take a labored breath. The smell of the burning heart was beginning to waft through the spa and he felt his throat twitch with the need to cough.

Dean stood over Sam with a gun trained on Ninurta's body. He wouldn't feel secure in the thing being dead…or exorcised, until the heart was dealt with and the body crispy coals.

"Now Bobby." Sam said in a hoarse voice and spoke the last few words of the incantation. There was a flare of light from the heart that reached up to the ceiling as Bobby tossed a lit match onto the body and it went up in a blaze. The heat crackled through the chamber. A sudden burst of air blew through the room, sending sparks and smoke out in a whirlwind. At the same moment Ninurta's now flame covered body rose up suddenly with a scream.

All three men aimed and unloaded round after round into the beast, watching as it twisted and jerked with each hit. The light died, the wind fell silent and Ninurta stumbled back a step and fell to the floor; finally still as it smoldered and smoked.

"That it?" Dean looked into the fire and saw nothing remained of the heart but ashes.

Sam nodded wearily. "Banished now." Smoke roiled off the carcass and Sam instinctively pushed back on the floor trying to avoid it. He felt hands under his arms and he was lifted up and dragged back.

"Time to go." Dean's voice said in his ear.

Sam nodded. Even so, he was coughing by the time they reached the door and doubled over before they reached the stairs. He wanted to argue that he could walk on his own but he was robbed of speech by the tightness in his chest.

"Sam?" Dean stopped at the bottom of the stairs and quickly handed his shotgun off to Bobby as his brother's legs started to buckle. "He aint breathing so well, Bobby."

"We gotta get him back. Get him dry." Bobby put a hand to Sam's forehead and hissed. "He's burnin' up."

"Ok tiger." Dean ducked to get a look at Sam's eyes and saw contained panic looking back at him. "It's gonna be fine. You're fine. Trust me." Dean smiled as the words had the instant effect of calming the panic he saw there. Sam trusted him implicitly and the return of that trust tightened something in his chest. He'd missed it. "Whoa!" He caught Sam as his legs completely went out and groaned. "This was easier…when you were smaller." Dean ducked and let Sam tip over his shoulder. "Lead the way, Bobby."

Dean followed him slowly up the stairs and kept one hand firmly on the rail; careful to not let the vines covering the steps catch his feet. The last thing his little brother needed was a tumble down the stairs. He could feel Sam struggling to breathe against his shoulder and his lack of argument about being carried was testament to just how bad he was feeling.

They cautiously stepped into the hotel's entry hall and looked around, waiting for the ghost to make itself known. Nothing happened. "Huh." Dean fished in his pocket for his EMF and pulled it out. It was silent. "Maybe it was the uber-demon stirring them up?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. Come on." Bobby took his shoulder to guide him and his burden around the debris and outside. "Well I'll be damned!" Bobby looked up and grinned. The rain had finally stopped. The heavy clouds that had hugged the mountains since before they had arrived were dissipating as they watched.

Dean turned his face up as the first rays of sun he'd seen in days broke through. "Nice."

"Dea…" Sam's congested voice came weakly from behind him. "Can…can't breathe….down."

"I'll go get the car. Set him down." Bobby set Dean's shotgun down next to him and jogged off toward the tree line.

"Ok, Sammy." Dean bent and set his brother's feet on the ground and then carefully eased him off his shoulder until he was sitting propped up against the outside of the hotel. "How you feeling?"

Sam wrapped his arms across his chest and nodded. "Fine."

Dean snorted and snapped a hand out to his shoulder, keeping him from sliding slowly to the ground. "I can see that. How about you just concentrate on taking a deep breath."

"Trying." Sam wheezed. "Burning." He added softly with his eyes closed. "I'm burning."

Dean watched him and frowned as Sam's breathing picked up. "Sammy?"

"Burning, Dean." Sam felt something clawing at him, some barely remembered memory and it filled him with terror.

"No. Sam, look at me." Dean took his face in his hands and spoke sharply. "Sammy!" Sam's eyes flew wide and latched on to his; he clamped a hand around Dean's wrist as if to anchor himself. "There you go. No scratching."

"Wasn't." Sam would have shaken his head if not for Dean's firm grip.

Dean sighed. Each time a chink developed in Sam's wall it scared him as much as it scared his brother. It was like waiting for a bomb to go off; knowing it was on a timer but not being able to see the countdown. "You're not burning." He stared the fear in Sam's eyes down until it calmed. "Alright?"

"Yeah." Sam closed his eyes again and worked at breathing properly. He studiously pushed away the burning feeling in his chest. It was just the bruised ribs…not hellfire.

"Sammy." Dean called again.

"I'm…good." Sam looked up as the Impala's engine announced its arrival and he smiled. "Home's here."

Dean chuckled and slapped the side of his face lightly before standing and pulling him up slowly. "Maybe now you can stay dry for more than five minutes."

Bobby was out of the driver's seat and opened the back door, letting Dean maneuver Sam inside and closed it. "How is he?"

"He'll live." Dean scrubbed a hand over his face and looked in as Sam leaned the back of his head into the window with a soft thump.

"Son?" Bobby gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"Nothing. It's nothing. He's good." Dean smiled. "Can we please go get dry now?"

Bobby watched him climb behind the wheel and shook his head. "Years off my damn life." He said fondly under his breath as he went around to the passenger side and got in.

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Rufus stumbled slowly from the bathroom back to the bed, growling his frustration at the empty room. His ego was not handling being left behind well. "Damn stupid old man." He cursed at himself. He rolled his eyes as he reached the bed and dropped gratefully to the side with a swimming head. "Bobby's never gonna let me live this down." He flopped back into the pillows and groaned again when he heard the distinctive rumble of the Impala's engine. He pushed himself back up, unwilling to look like the invalid he felt like. His body felt rubbery from spending so long in a coma. He was convinced he'd feel more like himself if he could get into his own damn clothes. He picked irritably at the hospital gown and twitched the blanket over his legs before the door opened. He'd just make Bobby stop laughing long enough to go by his motel and get his clothes.

The room door opened and banged into the wall. Rufus looked over and his eyes widened in surprise as the three men came in; or rather as Dean and Bobby came in holding up Sam between them. "What the hall happened to him?"

"Oh you know." Dean smiled tightly as they lugged Sam around to the other bed. "A little rain, a little swim and the Sumo demon."

"Sumerian." Sam wheezed with a smirk, working to make his voice heard.

"Shut up, you." Bobby helped Dean lay him on the bed and stood back, running a hand under his hat. "I'll go get some ice. You get him outta those wet clothes."

"Hey." Sam protested weakly and swatted his brother's hands away. "I can…do it…myself."

"Shut up, Sammy." Dean grabbed the front of his wet jacket and tugged him up so he was sitting and started stripping it and the flannel beneath off his shoulders.

Rufus chuckled, pleased to not be the biggest wreck in the room anymore. "You need any help?" He asked as Sam delivered a weak elbow to his big brother's stomach in protest.

"I got it. Knock it off." Dean cuffed the back of Sam's head and tossed the jacket and shirts aside to land with a wet splat by the bathroom.

"Just…gimme my clothes." Sam worked not to give in to the cough threatening him with the exertion. "Change…in the bathroom."

Dean rolled his eyes but helped Sam to his feet and guided him to the bathroom. "Wouldn't wanna dent that girly dignity of yours."

"Bite me." Sam gasped and hunched over the arm across his bare chest. He leaned against the sink while Dean laughed and came back a moment later with a handful of clothes.

"Hurry up." Dean told him and smiled. "You hit the floor I'm leavin' you there."

Sam smirked as Dean pulled the door closed. "Would not." He said softly and set to work peeling the wet denim from his legs.

"Seriously, Dean." Rufus' expression turned serious. "He ok?"

Dean nodded and wiped a tired hand down his face. "Bruised ribs and pneumonia." He shrugged. "He'll be fine, just miserable for a while." He looked over and smirked. "That gown's starting to grow on me. You should keep it."

"See, you think I can't get off this bed and kick your ass." Rufus glared up at him and his smile. "Keep it up you're gonna find out how wrong you are."

"Oh you couldn't beat up a Girl Scout right now and you know it." Bobby said as he came back with a bucket of ice and shut the room door. He grinned at the dark look his friend gave him. "Be nice and I might even go get you some clothes."

"Get my own damn clothes." Rufus growled and crossed his arms over his chest. "I aint a damn invalid you old jackass."

The bathroom door opened and Sam appeared in sweats and a shirt, leaning heavily on the frame. "Dean." He rasped. What little energy he had deserted him and he knew he wasn't going to make it the few feet to the bed without help. The fever, the congestion and the pain from his ribs were all working against him.

"I gotcha sasquatch." Dean went over and propped his brother up, leading him to the bed and helped him down again. He laid a hand on the side of Sam's neck and sighed at the heat. It made him nervous coming so close on the almost episode he'd had up at the hotel. He was concerned the burn of the fever would break through the wall again. "Gotta cool you off, dude. You're like a space heater."

Sam nodded wearily with his eyes closed. He wanted to sleep and wake up not feeling as crappy as he did.

Bobby went through his own bag and came out with several zip lock bags and started filling them with ice. "Here, Dean." He handed the first to Dean and filled another. "Side of his neck."

"We know the drill." Dean tugged part of the sheet up around Sam's neck and used it to cushion the ice as he set the bag there. He squeezed Sam's shoulder when his whole body shivered. "You know if you wanted a week off there's easier ways to get one."

Sam smirked and cracked his eyes to look up his brother's concerned face. "But it's…best way to…to get waited on." He chuckled breathlessly. "Water please…Jeeves."

"Oh Sammy, you bitch." Dean considered the many things he normally would have done to his brother for that comment but the fact that he was currently wheezing in the bed, trying to laugh and breathe at the same time with a fever burning through him made all of those things unwise. "You know you're gonna pay for that when you're vertical again?"

Sam groaned and clamped a hand over his bruised ribs. "Don't make me laugh…hurts."

"You think you can keep from maimin' chuckles over there while I take this one back to his motel?" Bobby asked Dean with a laugh.

"No promises." Dean said darkly. He slapped Sam's hand away from the ice bags at his neck. "Leave it."

"Come on, Bobby." Rufus sat up slowly and tried to shrug off the helping hand Dean gave him. "I got it." He stood and went around the bed. He turned back when Sam started wheezing more loudly and Dean laughed. "What?" Behind him Bobby broke into laughter as well.

"Dean…bleach." Sam suffered with the laughter. "Need to…un-see that!"

Dean pressed a helping hand down onto Sam's ribs so he could breathe and tried to smother his own laughter. "Little drafty there, Rufus."

Rufus scowled and then whipped his hands behind him; only then realizing the ties at the back of his hospital gown had come undone. He growled between his teeth and tugged the thin fabric together. "Jackasses." He turned and threw a punch at Bobby's arm as he stalked past.

"I'll be back." Bobby told the boys and followed Rufus to the door. "Soon as I get Lady Chatterley here back in her damn clothes."

Dean broke into laughter again as Bobby went out and heard the older Hunter grunt, no doubt in response to Rufus hitting him. He dropped onto the side of his messy bed and sighed deeply. "Man I wanna sleep."

"Should." Sam said, finally getting his restricted breathing back under control.

Dean shook his head and scooted so he was only on the edge of the bed. "Dude. Rufus was in here." He waved a hand over the rumpled sheets. "Don't think I wanna sleep where he had his bare ass."

Sam groaned, coughed and waved a hand. "S..stop." He wiped at the tears the coughing was causing. "Makin me…laugh…crap!"

Dean snorted and moved to sit on the side of Sam's bed instead. He straightened the bags of ice at his neck and pressed on his chest again while his breathing eased. "Get some sleep, Sammy." He pulled the blanket up higher on his chest. He got up and pulled one of the chairs over between the beds. He sat back, leaned until it was up against the night stand and put his feet up on Sam's bed.

Sam let himself sink into the bed and nodded. "Thanks…Dean."

Dean swatted his arm. "Awesome big brother. Thank you, awesome big brother." He smirked when he had to lean forward and help Sam breathe through the laughter again. "Sorry." He chuckled. "I can't help myself."

Sam flipped him off with a smile. "Tellin' Bobby." He closed his eyes and felt Dean squeeze his shoulder before leaning back in his chair.

"I aint afraid of him." Dean said surely and saw the look of disbelief on his brother's face. "Shuddup." Sam only snorted in response. Dean let his head fall back and closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion of the last few days wash over him. The sounds of Sam breathing helped lull him to sleep.

Bobby found them that way when he came back; Sam asleep with one arm thrown over his brother's knees on the bed and Dean leaned back with his head on the night stand snoring softly. He smirked and went softly into the room. He pulled the blanket from the empty bed and draped it carefully over Dean in his chair and smiled.

"Idjits." He said softly. He had planned on leaving them for a while but found he was uncomfortable leaving them alone with Dean asleep as well. Instead, Bobby went and sat at the table. He pulled Sam's laptop over and got comfortable, keeping a watchful eye on his boys while they slept with a fond smile.

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_To Be Continued..._


	10. Cuddly Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested loudly by me readers on fanfiction.net.... LOL A cuddly epilogue. Enjoy!

_**Epilogue** _

Dean jerked awake with a start and groaned at the crick in his neck as he pulled his head forward. "Huh? Wha?"

Bobby chuckled. "Rise and shine, son." He handed a cup of coffee to Dean. "I'm gonna go check on Rufus. Moron's not answerin' his phone. Probably just asleep."

Dean smirked; sure that despite the gruff front Bobby was concerned about him still. He sat up and took a look at his brother. He was still asleep and still wheezing for air. "Hey Bobby, you got any antibiotics? I'm out."

"Sure kid." Bobby clapped him on the shoulder. "Gimme a sec."

Dean nodded and laid a hand on his brother's neck. The ice had long melted and his skin was still hot and dry. "Anytime you wanna kick this thing, Sammy." He gathered the bags now half filled with water and took them into the bathroom to dump them. He came back out to find Bobby setting a fresh bucket of ice on the nightstand along with a pill bottle. "Bobby you're a prince."

Bobby tossed his bag over his shoulder and stopped to frown down at the youngest Winchester. "You want me to stay?"

"Naw, I got it." Dean smiled. "Go on, before Rufus wanders out in traffic or something."

Bobby snorted a laugh and nodded, going to the door. "You call me anything changes." He waved a hand at Sam.

"I will. Go on." Dean watched him close the door and refilled the empty bags with ice. He set them down and gave Sam's shoulder a shake. "Hey, Sam. Wake up." He got only a moan. "Sammy. Gotta take some meds, dude. Wake up." Sam moaned again and thrashed his head on the pillow.

"Dean." Sam's voice was hoarse and clogged. "Burning, Dean!" His arms and legs began jerking with his distress.

"Shit." Dean dropped to the side of the bed and took his head in his hands. "Sammy! Come on. Wake up! Sam!" There was no way he was going to let the wall crumble if he could help it. Dean slapped his cheek lightly and was rewarded with a gasp and eyes cracking open. "That's it, Sammy. Come on."

"S'hot." Sam managed after a moment. His thoughts were a roil of confusion as he looked up at Dean and for a moment, he couldn't understand how his brother was there. "Real?"

"What?" Dean stared down at him in surprise and then in comprehension. "Yeah, buddy. I'm real. I'm here. You're not…you're not there anymore, Sammy." He swallowed his usual aversion to anything approaching a chick-flick moment and lifted Sam up until he could slide in behind him. "You'll breathe better this way." He set his back against the wall and tugged Sam in to his chest, holding him up with an arm across his shoulders. After a few moments, Sam's strained breathing eased slightly and he relaxed back against him.

"Dean." Sam wrapped his hands around the arm across him and let it sink in; help pull him out of the shadowy nightmare he'd been caught in.

"I gotcha." Dean reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the bottle. He had to work to get it open as Sam seemed unwilling to relinquish his grip on his arm. Dean chuckled. "Dude you are sick. Here." He held the pills up where Sam could see them.

Sam fumbled to get the pills in his hand and then into his mouth. His whole body felt off and not completely in his control. Fine tremors ran through him, making him feel chilled even as he cooked in his own skin. He greedily drank from the bottle of water Dean held up for him and groaned when it was pulled away.

"Easy, dude." Dean set the bottle back and resettled Sam. "Don't want you choking with those bruised ribs."

"M'fine." Sam said, more out of habit than actual sincerity.

"Whatever, just stop squirming." Dean rolled his eyes and tried to get comfortable. Sam was a heavy weight against him, the heat pouring off of him. He tugged the bags of ice over and propped them on Sam's shoulders by his neck. Sam was warm enough that Dean didn't mind the bite from the ice against his chest.

"Cold." Sam twitched as the cold from the ice began to seep into his neck but Dean's arms kept him still.

"I know." Dean held him still until he stopped trying to reach the bags. "Just let it work. This fever doesn't come down soon, Sammy and I'm gonna have to drop you in a cold shower."

Sam groaned and shook his head. "No way." He was definitely not going to let that happen if he could help it. He felt another cough building in his chest. He opened his mouth to say so but only the cough came out. It was a harsh bark followed by more that pulled painfully at his chest. He didn't have the breath to thank Dean when he once more pressed a hand over the bruised ribs, supporting them so Sam didn't tear himself apart coughing.

"Easy, buddy. Easy." Dean cringed and heaved a sigh as the coughing finally died off and Sam dropped back hard against him; exhausted with the effort.

"Sucks." Sam gasped and let his head thump back into his brother's shoulder.

"Teach you to go swimming in freezing rivers." Dean teased. He settled the bags of ice again. "You good?"

Sam nodded once. His need for independence was telling him to take care of himself; to get Dean off the bed and let him sleep but the pain, the fever, the exhaustion and above all the absolute fear that the wall in his mind was cracking…those things made him tighten his grip on his brother's arm. He decided to be independent later, maybe tomorrow. For now, letting Dean take care of him sounded like a damn good idea and comforted him enough that he didn't fight the fresh wave of sleep rolling over him.

Dean felt Sam easing, muscles loosening as his head lolled to the side and smiled. "That's my boy." He'd been waiting for Sam to push him away and felt the momentary tension. He'd admit to himself at least that he'd been relieved when it hadn't come. Having spent so many months with a Sam that not only didn't need him but at times seemed disdainful of his very presence, the difference now was all the more glaring. The fact that Sam still had a solid grip on his arm even in sleep made him smile; reminding him of how things used to be when they were kids and life was a hell of a lot simpler…and Sam a hell of a lot more clingy.

Dean smirked and shifted to get more comfortable, careful not to dislodge his brother's grip on his arm. Some things would never change. He allowed himself to drift back to sleep with Sam a comforting weight against his chest. He'd tease him about being a clingy girl tomorrow…maybe.

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_Really the end. :P_


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